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#and it was heavily heavily implied she wanted answers on what to do with herself and all her painful feelings towards the world
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Been trying to write an analysis on Sasaki and the ending of Entrance Exam for days now and it just wasn't turning out so I deleted it... maybe another time when I can formulate a thought properly...
The only part I'll put here for now was the bit about my amusement with Dazai and Sasaki clearly near instantly realizing the other is a threat, which changed the way I read the scene of them chatting in the booth after she stayed the night. It probably boiled down to:
*sweetly smiling at each other* "oh this asshole has got to go"
Actually I went on an unorganized ramble in the tags so read that if you're interested in my Sasaki thoughts. Maybe I'll clean it up one day and make it proper.
#i've never seen anyone talk about her in depth so i thought it'd be fun; i really like her actually there was a lot of (wasted) potential#but my brain said no apparently#she has obvious implications for kunikida's character#but i wanted to talk a little about her dynamic with dazai and the paralleling between them#a seeker of justice who actually does not care much about justice and has no real personal ambition#merely acting in the memory of someone with much more strongly held values#she's also pretty cool i mean she has no ability and is quite intelligent#manages to puppeteer everything on her own simply through her skill at reading people and being selective with info#and yet is described as a puppet herself multiple times#and it was heavily heavily implied she wanted answers on what to do with herself and all her painful feelings towards the world#and dazai saw shooting her as 'kindness'#even as she was midway through telling kunikida#that she was happy when kunikida saved her even though it was all a set up#also i wanted to bring up how there's a really important difference between kunikida and the azure king#they're uncomfortably similar in some ways but very different in others#the point was that the azure king is to kunikida (if he valued ideals over people - the darkest path)#as sasaki is to dazai (if he'd been given no direction after losing his most important person - the darkest path)#it's more complicated than that and definitely not 1 to 1 but i stand by this interpretation#the main difference being that perception of humanity in self and others that is the running theme of this series#realized i paralleled a romantic couple to these two#does this count as kunikidazai lol#ugh anyways eventually i will write this i hope#storyrambles#also i know the point is that her and rokuzou died i know the point is the deaths were pointless#but what if she lived? what if she too got to find a reason to keep going in the face of grief and apathy?#and the continued conflict this could give kunikida too#something something the clash of different ideals of justice and how what is 'right' isn't so clear cut#but eventually he sticks to his belief that it is his ideal that no more people die if he can do something about it#this is so stupidly self-indulgent and an impossible scenario and probably i am the only one who finds it interesting but whatever#i think her living would've made things very very complicated but it's interesting to think about
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solaireverie · 6 months
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cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?
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summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions
request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!
warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending
author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it
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ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞
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user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?
↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬
user i hope she's okay...
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Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone. 
“Do you have news yet?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you. 
“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”
“Yeah?”
“She better be okay when I get there.”
Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1. 
“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.
There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him. 
“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?” 
Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open. 
Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.
“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”
Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?” 
The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.” 
Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests. 
After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.
Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.
“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”
Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.
He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.
“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”
Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants. 
He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.
He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you. 
Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.
Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.
“Where do I sign?”
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masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
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alavestineneas · 27 days
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i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest
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pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, daddy and sister issues, bald men chapter 1 - chapter 2 word count: 6,5K
author's note: hi beautiful people! this chapter may be classified as a prologue (yes, I am aware of its size, sorry, lol), but it is still integral to the story. we love evil people, especially evil bald people, in this house, so have fun and don't forget to wash your hands before reading! also, if you see things that are not canon, just know that me and the books are two parallel lines and we do not cross. feel free to point out grammar mistakes, though - english is not my first. love you!
Kaitain, 10176 AG
The violent streaks of light fight with the heavy cloth of drapes to find their way into the small, stifling chambers. The time was slowly crawling towards noon in the heavy summer heat, and the woman lying on the heavily decorated sheets was battling to get a breath in. Whether because of the annoying star, or the poisoning waiting, the patterns of sweat stained her tired face with esculent ornaments. Her lips, formed into a thin line, gleamed with small spots of dried crimson.
''Where is the messenger?'' The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to the dancing light filtering through the window. ''The girl is strong; I can't hold her for much longer.''
The black figure on the chair in the corner slightly shifted at words. She was veiled, despite the heat—like a black hole, she seemed to suck the little air left. ''Forbearance,'' her raspy voice cuts through the room. ''The child makes you impatient. Control yourself.''
''I've waited, and waited long enough,'' the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her trembling hands. ''A few more minutes and all that is left of her will be a corpse.''
''Be quiet, Echidna. The child will live. If not, she was never meant to be part of our world in the first place.''
The woman clenched her jaw in a wave of pain and nodded. The girl ought to see the light of this planet today. Deep in her thoughts, she almost missed the rushed steps behind the door.
One of the Emperor's guards burst into the room, his eyes almost frantic. ''Lady Anirul has graced the Imperium with a daughter.''
Echidna smiled in relief, but her expression quickly changed as a beast-like cry pierced the air. The child was coming, with little care for the damage it caused to her aching womb. She tore the tissue down to the individual cells, gnawing her way with fists and elbows, moving the bones aside with brute force. Soon, her own cries were answered by much louder ones, as the head of the girl showed itself, covered in a thick layer of almost black blood. Just for a moment, the woman wished it would not steal another breath from the room, but she sharply composed herself. With a final push, the child left her body forever, leaving it a raw wound.
The small creature shrieked when the black figure approached, and slender, wrinkled arms took it from the warmth of rufous-red liquid. Echidna watched as the figure carried the girl away, resting her hurting body against the soaked pillows. She fulfilled her duty; she granted Bene   Gesserit the daughter they wanted. She is bleeding under a beautiful sun; she is holding the ghost of her child in her arms—the real one was never hers anyway. Echidna knows the Emperor will not come. From now on, it is just her and her never-passing pain. Thus, Kaitain, home to the Corrino dynasty, was warmed by the light of a new sun—Princess Irulan, an heiress to the Imperium—and chilled by the shadow of her sister, born a few minutes later.
-
The calmness of the gardens was disturbed only by the soft strokes of brushes against a thick canvas. YN sighed, her eyes still fixed on the tree nearby, its young branches swaying with the wind. Her body ached from stillness, the tension in her neck from holding her head slightly bowed spreading down to her small back. They posed for a portrait of what seemed like an eternity to a child, and was almost it to an adult who dared to inquire; the painter, while satisfied with the draft, looked at the group of young girls almost in fear—no normal child of that age would be unmoving for three hours. And yet, they were.
YN felt one of her sisters shift even through the thick fabric of her silver dress. Small Chalice turned, her cheeks red from the heat or tiredness, her lips forming a pout—the child was tired, sleepingly rubbing her eyes. YN thought for a moment, debating if the punishment would be worth it, or if her sisters could wait just a little bit more until the man with colours would end the session for today. She noticed how Irulan's face was starting to droop, her eyes fluttering closed and opening just a second later. Their youngest, Wensicia, was already asleep in Irulan's arms; her golden hair spread across her and YN's laps as a beautiful cover, shining under the faint sun.
''I am tired, Master Chen. We should end the painting for today,'' YN finally spoke; her voice was almost a whisper. She did not know whether it was not to awaken her sister or out of fear of the Emperor's anger; it did not matter. The man nodded and left, taking his canvases with him, leaving only a few drafts behind. Then, the sisters were left alone in the garden.
''Thank you,'' Irulan said softly, placing her head on YN's shoulder.
YN only nodded. Her eyes found the paper not so far away, her gaze studying the strokes of the pencil with interest. Wensicia, a beautiful girl of two, was smiling brightly, holding an olive branch in her chubby hands, her small feet peeking under the hem of her white dress. Small Chalice was at the opposite end of her, her curly hair surrounding her head like a halo as she leaned forward, holding a small dove inside her palms. Then, sitting at the bench, surrounded by lush greenery and bushes, they. Irulan and the Other.
YN was placed just a step away from her older sister, her head turned away from the gaze of the viewer. The delicate folds of her silver dress carefully cascaded down, creating an air of mist around them. Her hands were empty; she did not know if the artist hadn't decided with each object to grace her with, or left them hollow intently. She looked like a shadow—a ghost, maybe; her eyes were escaping the viewer as if hiding a secret.
Irulan was different. She was a sun-kissed creature, her head facing straight ahead. Her eyes, as if inviting for a challenge, were made from duty, steel. With a burning star on her regal forehead, crowning the streaks of golden hair, Irulan was water and air, dulcet and ever-bending; her figure held the place and her pose was distinct and commanding.
YN looked at the girl beside her, who was now quiet nearby. Irualn was wise, the wisest of the sisters; her eyes were all-seeing, her heart all-knowing. She was created in the shape of a mother since they could walk, and the small ones bathed in her light, drinking her till the last drop —like flowers following the warm embrace of the sun. The only one who could not enjoy the love was her, the Other. The other sister, the other half. For they have been too close in age, too similar to let each other pretend the burden was not a heavy one to bear.
When Irulan was natural in her all-caring shape, YN had to claw her way to the only role left—the father. An unbent tree, a silent soldier—she was not born to fit as one, but wishing for a different order of things was almost blasphemy. That's how it always was with them—out of two, one was the protector, the other - the protected. "Husband," Irulan humorously called her often. She smiled, and, for a moment, the wave of resentment in YN's soul calmed. She never called her wife in return: Irulan was too whole to be one, too proud to be moulded into. She stood alone, on a higher pedestal than all of them, closest to the Emperor, whom the Other was to call father, and closest to the Truth. No, Irulan was God.
God does not know how to love someone who is not his servant, because there is no one who would refuse to serve him; it is the only way. God guides, despite all one's protests. God gives, and God takes. God demands; Irulan demands—silent obedience without a need to explain or answer. That, she takes from their father. So, the Other takes a blade into her hand without compassion for her dead wishes and learns to wield it in God's name. She is the one little ones turn to when the world is too wicked for their fragile souls when the creatures under their beds lose all of their human form and turn violent. She takes their sins and bears the punishments, for they are not deserving of such cruelty. YN thinks not of her own guilt—what difference would one scourage make to one who counts in centuries? And when the sun shone, and God smiled, the Other almost forgot of the bruises she carried.
-
The first time he saw her, it was not supposed to happen at all. Feyd-Rautha just closed the door to Maester's chambers with such force that it shook against lean walls; the grumble echoed in the long corridors of Giedi Prime's fortness. The ache in his body was muted, but still present; the torn flesh inside his heart howled and clawed, slicing the ribcage in half. He would've screamed, or perhaps beat his hands bloody against the concrete until the dull pain turned into something as sharp as his knife's blade. Maybe he would've drowned himself in a small water bowl by his nightstand and done anything to escape the shame and humiliation that consumed him from within. But instead, Feyd-Rautha stood still, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing shallow. One day, it will pass. One day, he will see the world choke on its own spit.
That's when he noticed a small, shadow-like figure at the end of the hallway staring at him. A girl, not older than him, was in a dress so foreign to him that it hurt his eyes. The daughter of the Emperor, he guessed. One of many—only then would the golden stitching on her sleeve would make sense.
''What are you doing here?'' he barked, caring little for the common courtesy. Of course, she was a guest almost as prized as her father, but she was in his territory and dared to look at him for long enough without averting her eyes. Long enough to notice the bruising on his pale skin and a swelness surrounding his lips. Long enough to hear him cry.
''I was walking with my mother, but then I turned into the wrong hall,'' she shrugged. ''Will you be kind enough to show me the way out? Or should I find it myself?"
Feyd-Rautha ignored her question. What a weird creature she was—with cascades of hair and eyes that seemed to see too much. ''It is dangerous to walk these halls without guard, Princess.'' It is dangerous to be here, alone with him and the weapon strapped to his hip, but he did not add it.
''There is no use of guards if the one who wishes to kill you is their master.'' The girl took a step forward, pointing to the weapon at his side. "I am not afraid."
Feyd-Rautha laughed. It came out more as howling than human sounds, the abrupt nature of it ringing with high notes, tip-toeing down to hysterical; it sounded creaky, like his throat was not made for such sounds; yet here he was, laughing. ''Come,'' he gestured to her, his hand moving quickly, like ordering a slave around. ''I will show you why you should be.''
So, they walked. Inside the grandiose chambers and small rooms, filled with ancient artefacts or the newest technology Harkonnens came up with; inside the green lavish garden inside the dim castle and the training grounds, Feyd-Rautha showed every place that was built to display the greatness of his house and bestone fear inside both guests and people inhibiting it. He wanted to see the horror in the girl's eyes, to make her eyes water and her frame flee. Instead, he listened to her steady breathing just a step behind him, her curious questioning satisfying another need he did not know his heart possessed: reverence.
He was the youngest member of the ruling line, the smallest stone in the castle of power his uncle had built. His title meant nothing within these walls; he was too small in comparison to the Baron and his authority. Feyd-Rautha was feared, despite only being nine; he was the shadow in the corner that grew longer as the sun set, the whispered name that sent shivers down spines. But here, in the hallway he led the girl into, he turned out to be something else.
''Stunning,'' the girl whispered beside him.
Weapons. The walls, from the floor to the high ceilings, were covered in ritual and fighting blades. The pride of house Harkonnen, the tree of their dynasty, black, silver, golden, and steel knives, swords, and daggers gleamed in the dim light. Feyd-Rautha smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Welcome to our burial ground."
They stopped near every one, his voice briefly covering the story of each blade and his owner; barons that came before him; fighters and rules that defined their legacy. Some still have blood on them—the highest honour; some look almost virgin. The small signs underneath them tell the names of people who wielded these weapons, their stories forever immortalised in the cold metal. ''Each Harkonnen ruler is crafted a blade of his own, the one he is to honour in battle.''
The girl nodded, her fingers tracing the shape of the last blade carefully. Her palms danced around the sharp edge, taking in the ancient symbols she had no chance of knowing. ''Will you have to kill Baron Vladimir in order to have one, like he did with his father before?''
Feyd-Rautha paused. Of course, he has thought about it before. The idea he repeated like a mantra in his head for all of his short life, the belief that spread burning flames down his spine. The words left his mouth for the first time but felt almost natural against his cracked lips. ''I dream of the day I have the chance to.''
The pair of foreign eyes that stared back at him held a glint of intrigue that quickly changed with a flash of acknowledgement. Feyd-Rautha held the gaze; not a single thing about it was hard. Still, he was the first to turn away; the burning sensation of being  seen  made him want to tear his flesh apart. ''Let me escort you to your rooms, Princess. The walls grow colder as the evening approaches.''
-
The weather on the planet leaves too few guards out of their breath, Irulan notes. The striking sun burns through the rounded windows of man-built walls, the frankly depressing landscape of huge boxes constructed with little intent for anything else but utilitarianism. She must not fear, while those lands will also be under her power with time, but the dreadful atmosphere of the lonely planet makes her skin break out in hives.
She believes the people here are more terrifying. White, hairless creatures with eyes as dark as the sun above them speak with just nods and courseys, paying little to no attention to the world around them, save for the concrete floors.  ''Tell them to set themselves on fire, and they will,''  Irulan recalls Baron Vladimir telling her father over the banquet. She believed it to be a simple boast at first, but now, after a few days in the strange world, the words make greater sense.
Perhaps, the harsh weather made people here hardened. Perhaps, such cruelty is necessary for survival. What terrorised her more was her sister—the one who now silently reads nearby, her long dress carelessly spread on the floor. Irulan would never allow her dress to wrinkle before the concluding dinner, but she is not Irulan. Despite them being demisisters, they shared fewer similarities than one could guess. Two lambs, as many in court would call them—the white and black ones. They knew one another better than anything else; where one went, the other followed. Where Irulan failed, her sister succeeded. What was allowed for her sister, was fobility towards Irulan. No one was embedded in their small circle; no one could get close enough to understand the bond they shared—together, they were whole.
Yet as they grew older, the bond seemed to thin. The path to the mind of her sister was more often closed to her now, her thoughts veiled by the silence rooted deep into her veins. Irulan knows they are just growing up, trying to find their path in the unknown. But she is scared; what would be of her without her sister? What use would the river have without fish to fill it?
''I shall go,'' her sister says, closing the book. ''The dinner starts soon, and I wanted to return the book before it.''
''Is it the one Na-Baron recommended?'' Irulan voices. Truth be told, she would never touch anything that Baron or his family possessed, even more recommended, but her sister seemed to enjoy the ancient text.
''It is. Rather interesting are the traditions of these people. Did you know their slaves have no tongues?''
Irulan feels sick to her stomach; the thought of having slaves brings the small bits of her recent meal to her very present tongue. ''Can I come with you?'' she asks, instead of answering. Irulan does not want to leave the faint safety of her rooms, but even more, she does not want to be left alone. She feels vulnerable—she is not of power here, despite being the embodiment of it in all of the other corners of the Imperium.
''You know I walk without guards.''
Irulan knows. While she is not able as much as bathe without the presence of someone with fighting knowledge, the rules do not seem to apply to her younger sister; she can move freely, as she wishes. Was it because she carried a thin blade with her and knew how to use it, or because of the lack of care from their father? Irulan was not sure. What she was sure of, was that no woman of twelve should leave her sister alone in the halls of Harkonnens' fort.
''It is just to the reading room and back, is it not?''
''Yes,'' her sister nods.  ''I'll take you,''  it means.
So, they walk. Fortunately, the guards usually waiting outside are nowhere to be found, and they manage to slip away unnoticed. Irulan holds the hand of her sister tightly, with each noise from the outside digging her nails deeper into her soft palm. Her sister says nothing; she steps calmly into the labyrinth of corridors, navigating them without much evident trouble. Soon, they find themselves in front of a huge black door, incarnated with words Irulan hold no knowledge of.
Inside, the chamber is massive; it forms a beautiful, round circle with ceilings so high that the air in it is always chilly. Rows of books and manuscripts fill the shelves out of oxidant, contrasting starkly with the white wall. The black circle table of cold stone is filled with replicas and ancient artefacts, each emitting a soft glow.
Who knew the small, desert planet held such treasures inside? Irulan forgets about her sister entirely—the texts call to her, golden lettering shining under the light. Irulan follows the names on the covers: legends, myths, histories, and art overviews. Some even contained gardening and soil research; Baron likely held those for a good laugh.
Irulan travels deeper and deeper until the voice of her sister addressing the only library keeper almost disappears, consumed by tall bookcases. The section she finds herself in is solely dedicated to martial arts; where, if not here, would the hundreds of books on such a topic be stored? Some of them are used; the spines are slightly older; others look brand new.
Irulan is brought to her senses only when she notices a black figure moving in the corner of her vision. She puts the book back and Listens. Just like the Sisters taught her, her inner ear picks up the faint voice of her sister, and the moving of two sandaled feet—the slave handling the books. She feels something else, too. A presence familiar enough to recognise but not enough to name.
''We have to go,'' she says, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and pressing. ''We will be late,'' she explains to the slave. Not that it would question the whims of the princess.
''Why?'' her sister turns to her, confused. ''I was looking at some other books. Weren't you also?''
''Please,'' Irulan whispers. ''We spent enough time here as it is.''
Just as her sister was about to answer, the atmosphere shifted. The air, sitting in its calmness, heavied. The silent before slave turned on its feet, its eyes burning holes in Irulan's body. It lurches towards them, opening its obsidian mouth to show the blackened void inside—indeed, it possesses no tongue.
Irulan freezes. The void seems to suck her in, the sharp mouth growing wider as its owner approaches her body. The fear paralyses her, planting her otherwise quick feet deep into the ground. Now, her training as Bene Gesserit should awaken—she should oppose, or at the very least dodge, the attack. But the black mouth continues to draw her in, clouding her thoughts with terror.
The body beside her shifts; her sister is quick. With one strong thrust, she pushes Irulan aside. '' Hide ,'' the voice within her head commands, and Irulan has no force to object to the technique. She crawls under the heavy stone, frantically looking for something—anything—to protect herself with.
Despite the long skirts, her sister moves like Adam's wine; she bends and turns, and strikes the man far taller than her, but he seems determined on the idea of killing her. Her sister grunts under the heavy hits; one sits in her abdomen, and another lands on her knees. The slave's nails leave a trace on her skin, rough enough to pierce the young dermis.
Eventually, her sister grows tired; the slave pushes her to the ground, pressing his slender body on top and closing its white, almost translucent hands on her throat. Irulan clasps the found sharp cutting instrument to her chest, desperately trying to calm the wave of fear forming there.  ''I must not fear. Fear is a mind killer,''  she whispers again and again.
She watches as her sister's hand slips under her clothes and emerges an illicit, slender blade—it shines under the light just as lettering did on the books a minute ago. To Irulan, it feels like a year's hundred. ''No!'' she wants to shout as her sister raises the steel and preys it into the eye of the slave, but the words are unable to leave her throat. Like a waterfall, crimson covers her sister's face, staining her light grey dress in hot circles.
The slave falls on his back, his hands leaving their place on her sister's neck.
''Enough, please! Sister, stop!'' Irulan cries, crawling out of her hiding spot but daring not to get closer.
Her sister doesn't hear; she lurches towards the man in a slick puddle and takes his life quickly, cutting his throat in one swift motion. The blood from his arteria leaves the body in pulsations; they spatter everywhere, some drops going as far as touching the shelves.
The silence settles in the chamber once again; only the sound of weakly flowing blood disturbs the stillness. Her sister does not shed a tear; she meticulously cleans the blade with the slave's white cloth and slips it back into the folds of her gown.
''What have you done?'' Irulan whispers. Her hands tremble; the sight before her crawls into the deepest corners of her mind and tears everything there down. How can one kill so easily? How can one be so cold and calculating, as if it were nothing more than a daily chore? How could that one be her sister, the one she shared a life with?
''I protected.'' Her sister's voice is hoarse, but firm. There is no remorse in her tone, only weariness. ''What have you  done?'' She turns to face her. Her hair, carefully braided by servants for dinner, is undone; the wet strands of it grip her face like a vice, framing the unseeing eyes.
Like that, she looks like a woman mad. Irulan backs into the safety of the doors, feeling her fear turn into something much greater. ''Do not come near me,'' she commands. Just as the heavy doors close behind her, she sets off running.
-
YN waits until the footsteps of her sister are no longer heard, and only then does she come out of the reading room. She pays the body on the ground little attention; no one would bet an eye on the death of a useless creature like that. It did not intend to kill; rather, someone made it do it. Who, in their right mind, would try to harm the heir of the Emperor? How would they know that Irulan would follow her there?
Irulan. The one who watched as the Other almost gave her life for hers, the one who had the nerve to be repulsed by the blood on her hands—the blood she spilt protecting her. What do you do when you are not allowed to be angry at God? Why does God shame one for the will she herself inflicted on one to bestone? YN would ask the sun, but it hid behind the walls of the fort. She would ask, but no one would answer.
So, she does what she is meant to do—finds her way into the large dining hall, where everyone, of course, is starting to gather. The Emperor would be dissatisfied to find her not there on time; she has no time to fix her appearance. In light of the slight possibility of shaming their House with her muddled hairstyle or suffering yet another punishment for being even late, she chooses the first option.
The guards let her in without saying a word. YNr watches as the shield slides open, revealing a full hall. Rows and rows of tables, filled with foods one would imagine never would have made their way to the Giedi Prime, and laughter not so usual for a harsh realm.
''Princess...'' the servant starts, announcing her arrival, but she shushes him with a slight wave of her palm. She does not notice the crimson liquid staining it.
The Other makes her way to her seat calmly, careless of the way people around her stumble and twist their faces in shock. The only eyes that watch her without fear at the Emperor's table are those of Lady Echidna. Her face betrays no emotion at all—hidden by her veiled black cloth, it only slightly moves when the YN passes her seat.
She holds the angry gaze of the Emperor calmly. He will demand an answer, of course if Irulan has not whispered the truth into his aged ears already. Her sister probably would do no such thing; in that, she would admit to disobeying the orders bestowed upon her. YN is puzzled at the attention directed towards her humble figure—the first thing a Bene Gessarite in training learns is not to be repulsed by the anatomy of her body. Why be grossed out by the liquid coursing through her veins—the liquid she carries all her life? Why be scared of death, when it is always at your doorstep? In the sway of her thoughts, the Other also seems not to perceive the pair of icy blue eyes glued to her figure as she finds her seat and takes her place.
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"The boy follows you around like a dog." The mother's tone stands not in judgment but rather simply states the truth.
Lady Echidna is not veiled now; her heavy hair is still tightly braided out of her face. Just a small black ribbon highlights her status as one of the Emperor's senior concubines, a position most would bear with honour. To her, it was yet another stain on her earthly body—the body she could not call her to possess. The black sun of Giedi Prime is finally long behind them; nothing but a few light orbs floating around illuminate the chamber, yet her intense gaze seems to pierce right through the girl that sits across her.
"I know, mother. His steps are heavy; his thoughts are even heavier; they follow me much more often."
The woman's fingers stop working on an intricate needlework for a moment, before continuing as it was. "You are to call me Sister, girl," she speaks, her voice low.
YN drags her teeth across her tongue, feeling the anger flow through the veins in her body. She wishes to be far away from this small chamber, to run and never face the woman's eyes again. "The girl has a name, Sister. Or do you fear to voice it?"
Lady Echidna places the cloth on the table beside her gracefully, as if paying no attention to the words spoken. But YN can sense can feel the resentment that burns inside her mother's stomach, spreading its molecules to her throat. "A name holds meaning; for a person to have a name, one must first be of character and substance. You are none."
YN bit the soft flesh inside her mouth; it tasted bitter. It was better if her mother shouted, if she hit her if she did anything to prove YN is still here in her eyes, that she was not just a void the woman spoke her riddles into. Maybe then the pain inside her would have a meaning, would have a reason better than just childish hurt. "Did I not have a beating heart when I left your womb, Sister? Did you not hear it loud and clear? What kind of proof is needed more of me?"
"My daughter died that day, screaming. You took her place. So do not bother me with your foolish talks anymore, for we both know they just waste the air we breathe. Am I heard?"
She was. The tears dried on YN's face before having the chance to spill, and she turned to her studies. Once more, a feeling of ever-lasting cold surrounded her shoulders. The never-leaving vision in her mind appeared once again—her mother's quick steps as she walked away in another corridor of Giedi Prime's fort, her head straight ahead as YN pleaded not to leave her alone, her legs glued to the command spoken. It was a blessing that the boy found her earlier than his uncle.
-
Time has passed since the first time YN's eyes saw the black sun of the foreign planet so far from hers. The Other trained, restlessly, in the tongues of ancient warriors and the most prominent whisperers, slowly earning the right to bear Knowledge in her crown-empty head. She had much yet to learn, but the prospect did not frighten her; with every passing day, she felt power building in her hands and soul. Patience, the greatest virtue of all. She was alone now, without her half of a sister; alone, in her solitude, the heavy bearings seemed not as heavy—she had no one to enlighten about her battles. Still, God was on her mind; YN felt her presence near, her watchful eyes guiding her. Like the tight, dampened cloth on her bruised knuckles, her sister was stuck to her open wound of a soul.
Irulan has grown. Her complexion changed; she no longer looked like a bright-faced girl who left her sister alone in Harkonnen's library; the plump cheeks were gone, and so was fear. At the Other stared a sole statue of power she bloomed into. Silver collars, light blue waves of fabric—the cut is, as always, straight. The Other eyed her up and down, taking in each detail of the painting-like sight. Irulan did the same—a slight disgust at the Other's simple tunic and pants, creased from the sparring. Irulan did not need to be broken in order to be a Sister in the Bene Gesserit; they wanted her Corrino first, and a servant second. The Other, however, held no such value—a child carried not by the lawful wife, a second, a spare. So, there would be no bone in her body left untouched by the lessons, no string in her soul unharmed by the knowledge. They crushed her cartilage in grey sand and forced her to swallow the bitter truths of their ways. Yet, God remains undisturbed—stoic. Eternal.
''Will you not eat again?'' Irulan musses, putting another piece of dish in her mouth.
The Other would take it as a cruel joke from anyone else, but not from God. She shakes her head instead. ''I am forbidden.''
Irulan hums. It was not the first time YN would be disciplined this way; the cycle of punishment and forgiveness was all too familiar to her. The room is silent; there is no one but the two of them. She could offer to eat, and no one would know she did, but Irulan won't offer. The Other does not expect her to; pity is not something a sister can possess.
''How are your lessons going? A fresh knowledge, perhaps?''
YN nods. If she opens her mouth now, her voice will betray her. She could cry all she wanted in the presence of a sister, but it is not appropriate for a thirteen-year-old to behave this way in front of God. The Other is reminded of that with an absence of bruises on Irulan's skin; her hands were never cut by the sharp blades, and her mouth was never starved. ''Why was I summoned from training?'' She asked, directing her eyes to the figure in front of her.
''I am here as a messenger from the Emperor.''
YN's eyes narrowed. ''And what does our dear Emperor desire to tell me now?'' She wishes not to hear anything he has to say; the Other is perfectly content here, amongst her Sisters. Here, she is of cost.
''Recently, Baron Vladimir turned to our House for guidance. He and na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen felt misled by the House Artreidis, and their promise of a bride that did not come. Our father has graciously offered to negotiate the conflict and pay the needed price for the Baron's cooperation.''
''Of course, he did. With all of our might, we are still afraid of the savages that made Arrakis their home. With what advice, may I ask, did the Emperor provide the Baron?''
Irulan's lips turn into a straight line, with the small wrinkle on her forehead appearing. Something that she carried with her through childhood. Something that still reminded of home. ''With the proposal of a woman of our House to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.''
''A gift? Irulan, I am so sorry.''
Sure, the bridge between them was long forgotten, growing with tall grass and wildflowers, but the weight of their shared history still lingered in the air. Irulan was still her sister, no matter how many times the Other tried to tell herself otherwise. And no woman sane would consider giving her sister to the inhumane brutes that were Harkonnens—the people even Bene Gessarit wished to observe from afar; the people so ruthless mothers told stories about them to their small offspring in an attempt to instil fear and obedience.
Irulan does not answer. She hides her gaze, her eyes following the wooden panels of the quarters.
''What is it, sister?  Speak .''
''The offer Emperor found the most fitting would be of your hand, not mine.''
The Other exhales. As if a heavy stone were put on her chest, she fights to bring much-needed oxygen to her bloodstream. She almost feels the erythrocytes scatter from her face into her neck, hidden by the cloth, and gather there in an attempt to regrow their might. Her throat twists and closes, its muscles compressing until not even an ounce of air can get in. All of her organs, from heart to stomach, made their presence known; one by one, they tensed and burned, forcing the otherwise relaxed hands to grip them.
It was supposed to be Irulan. The first one to marry is the oldest sister; the title high enough to satisfy the ambitious Harkonnes would be hers, no less. Yet, here she stands, not even looking at the one taking her place as she sentences her to an ultimate death. No matter how much power the Corrino name held, on Giedi Prime, she would consider herself fortunate enough if she were to meet her end quickly.
''Why, Irulan? Have I not been a loyal servant to you all those years? Have I not followed every order without question? ''
Irulan is unmoved in her position. ''We can not risk the Harkonnen blood getting on the throne, you know it.''
''You mean we can not risk you? We are not eight anymore, dear Irulan; you can speak truthfully now. Do you really think the Emperor will treasure you more if you say nothing now? We are no sons, Irulan; we are sisters, you and I. Please, spare me this fate.''
''Yes,'' the girl lifts her eyes, taking a step closer. ''We are no sons; you knew that one day we would marry for the peace of the Imperium. Why do you shout now?''
''Married, yes, but not murdered for the sake of the fucking old man who could not hold his promise. They are monsters, Irulan, spilling innocent blood for the fun of it. I beg of you, sister, show me the mercy I know you are capable of.''
''You are worried about blood? What could one more splash of blood mean to you? You have been no sister for a long time; I order you, as an heir of the Emperor and as the messenger of his will here, to comply. Do not make it harder than it has to be.''
The Other smiled—she would not grant the pleasure of tears. ''Very well, then. Someone needs to go first. I'll go; I'll be first, at least here. Tell the Emperor that I will comply with any of his wishes, whether it be to throw me to the sharks or to feed me to the sandworms. As a confirmation of my undying loyalty, you may show him this:''
She slaps her. She slaps her not like a warrior, not like the trained assassin she was raised to be; she slaps her like a sister, bitterly, harshly. For the first time in her short life, YN raises a hand on something she deems holy—the God's shocked face brings a sense of satisfaction to the Other's veins, even if the same blood courses through them. She turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the forsaken room behind. Leaving God behind.
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solarmorrigan · 11 months
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I have a lot of thoughts about Steve who craves physical affection, who thinks of his worth in terms of what he can do for other people, and who got very drunk at high school parties. This is one of them
CW for heavily implied past dubcon (not between Eddie and Steve). Please take care
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Eddie has never seen Steve drunk.
At least – not up close. There had been a few high school parties back in the day where Eddie had passed by the “Keg Stand King,” but since he’s come to know Steve personally (intimately), Steve has barely touched alcohol.
He’s told Eddie the story of being drugged against his will and how he doesn’t want to repeat the feeling of losing control, and how he doesn’t like not being able to drive if he needs to, and how the hangover would probably just trigger a migraine anyway – and, really, he just doesn’t drink much anymore.
Yet tonight had been a special occasion: Robin’s birthday. She herself isn’t much for alcohol (for at least some reasons that match up with Steve’s), but drinking, she said, feels like a part of the birthday experience. She’d somehow gotten Steve to match her beer for beer, for “emotional support,” and it hadn’t taken long for the both of them to become entirely inebriated.
Time has apparently greatly eroded Steve’s tolerance.
Eddie had distantly expected him to be kind of a bitchy drunk—and he had become a bit cattier, for sure—but mostly he’d just become affectionate. There had been hugs for nearly everyone, and he’d spent the latter half of the party slowly migrating into Eddie’s lap, plying him with constant kisses on the cheek and giggling ridiculously at nearly everything Eddie had said.
It had been sort of adorable (not that Eddie will tell him that; no, he’s going to sit on that information until it benefits him).
It’s a little less fun now that he’s trying to cart Steve up to his room and into bed. Steve is a bit wobbly, and a lot heavy, and is much more interested in trying to cling to Eddie like a koala and bury his face in Eddie’s neck than he is in actually walking anywhere.
“Y’know, we could cuddle to your heart’s content if you’d just let me get you to bed,” Eddie points out when he and Steve have stalled out partway down the hall, leaning against the closed door to the bathroom.
Steve hums vaguely, tightening the grip he has on Eddie’s t-shirt. “But you’re out here,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
A shiver travels down Eddie’s spine at the feeling of Steve’s warm breath ghosting across his throat, but it doesn’t go much further than a gentle, dying flutter in his gut. As affectionate as Steve has been, as hungry for contact as he’s acted all night, there’s been nothing sexual about it. It’s been all hugs and sweet kisses, not heated embraces and sloppy make outs.
Besides– Steve’s drunk. Eddie’s not going to take advantage.
He wedges a hand between himself and Steve and gently pushes Steve back.
“I’m coming to bed with you, you colossal dork,” Eddie says.
Steve blinks at Eddie, slightly unfocused. “Oh.” He finally heaves up and away from the wall, grabbing Eddie’s hand to tug him along as he weaves unsteadily down the hall. “Well why didn’t you say so?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, all affection. “Where else would I be going?”
Steve stops when they get to his room, apparently pondering the answer.
“Away?” he finally volunteers, half-questioning, as if he’s hoping he’s wrong.
“No, baby,” Eddie assures him immediately, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “I’m staying. Gotta make sure you don’t choke on your tongue after you pass out, anyway.”
“’m not that drunk,” Steve says; he rolls his eyes and then immediately seems to regret it, reaching out for Eddie’s shoulder to steady himself.
“Uh huh,” Eddie drawls. “Okay, time for bed, big boy.”
Grumbling, Steve releases Eddie to shuffle over to the bed, where he flops down on his back with a sigh, jeans and all.
“Alright, not exactly what I meant, but I can work with this,” Eddie says, kneeling on the bed by Steve’s hip.
They’d managed to ditch their shoes in the entryway, but they’re otherwise fully dressed, and Steve is going to be uncomfortable if he tries to spend the whole night in his belt and jeans.
Steve squirms a bit when Eddie reaches for his belt buckle, as if he’s not quite sure whether to move away or not.
“Eddie…” he groans – an exasperated sort of groan, rather than the usual way he groans Eddie’s name when he’s squirming on the bed.
“Just hold still,” Eddie shushes him with a quick pat to the hip.
He gets as far as pulling the tongue of the belt through the buckle before Steve’s hands shoot out and grab Eddie by the wrists. His grip is surprisingly strong, considering how uncoordinated he’d been tonight, and Eddie stills immediately.
“Steve?” Eddie looks up to see Steve staring down at him, wide-eyed and apprehensive; hell, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he might say Steve looks… sort of frightened.
“Not– not tonight,” Steve says, enunciating carefully, and Eddie’s confusion only increases.
He doesn’t want his belt off tonight? Is that what he’s worked up about?
In the wake of Eddie’s baffled lack of response, Steve only grows more insistent, tugging Eddie’s hands away from his waist.
“Not while I’m–” Steve breaks off, licking his lips nervously. He shakes his head and adds quietly, “Please.”
Brows furrowed, Eddie stares at Steve a second longer. “Not while you’re…?” Then the penny drops, and Eddie jerks away from Steve so quickly that Steve barely has time to let go. “Oh shit, no. That’s not– no, I’m not– Steve, fuck, no, that’s not what I’m doing.”
Steve stares up at Eddie, the anxiety he’s a little too drunk to mask still lingering in his eyes.
“I promise, I was only trying to get your belt and pants off so you’d be more comfortable. For sleeping!” Eddie says quickly. “But you can keep them on if you want. Hell, put on more layers. Do you want a jacket?”
Distantly, Eddie realizes he’s rambling and tries to stop; it doesn’t seem to be helping.
“I– I know I was kissing you,” Steve says, then glances away with a grimace, seeming a bit more sober now. “Practically throwing myself at you. ’m sorry, I just–”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be,” Eddie says firmly. “Even if you were throwing yourself at me—even though you weren’t; like, I can tell the difference between cuddly you and horny you, okay?—but even if you had been, you can still say no. You can always say no. But I swear, Steve, I was only trying to get you comfy, that’s all.”
For a moment, Steve just breathes, processing Eddie’s words as carefully as his sloshed brain will allow.
“Are you still going to stay?” he finally asks. “Even though I don’t want to have sex?”
“Of course,” Eddie blurts, some dizzying combination of baffled, anxious, and incensed. “I’m only gonna leave if you tell me to.”
And even then, he’d only go as far as the couch downstairs (just in case).
Slowly, Steve nods, then reaches for his belt to pull it off in a series of determined, clumsy movements. He drops it on the floor when he’s done but makes no move to remove his jeans.
Eddie, following suit, resigns himself to an uncomfortable night. He strips off his jewelry and his own belt but leaves his pants on.
All the lights go out, save for a small, dim lamp on Steve’s desk, and then Eddie crawls on top of the covers with Steve, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed—a gift from Claudia—up over both of them.
A little of the churning, anxious mess in Eddie’s chest eases when Steve immediately plasters himself to his side, resting his head on Eddie’s chest (and Eddie just knows there’s going to be drool there come morning, but he can’t bear to move him). All the same, even as he hears Steve’s breathing even out into sleep, Eddie can’t get his mind to rest.
What has he done to give Steve the impression that he’d try to fuck him when he’s too drunk to really say yes? What has he done to make him think he’d leave if Steve doesn’t put out?
Nothing.
Genuinely and truly, Eddie can’t think of anything. There have been plenty of times they’ve hung out, even shared a bed, and they haven’t had sex. Sure, they’re active, but they do actually do other things together.
There have been other nights where sex has seemed like a sure thing, only to be halted by an apologetic look from Steve and the start of a migraine. There have been times Eddie’s called it off because his anxiety has reared up and bit him in the ass. There’s never been anger over it.
That leaves two options: it’s either an imagined scenario stirred up by anxiety and insecurity and alcohol, or… it’s based on a different experience, in a different time and place.
All things considered, Eddie has a terrible, sinking feeling that he knows which one it is.
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IOTA Reviews: Revelation and Confrontation
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Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of the season. For the most part, Season 5's episodes have been boring at worst and passable at best, with only about four episodes I'd consider to be outright bad. That pretty much disappears starting here. It's like the writers held back for most of the season, and just as the final arc was about to begin, right when most of the audience was led into a false sense of security, they were like:
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Let's get into the twentieth and twenty-first episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Revelation and Confrontation
So, for an episode titled “Revelation”, you'd assume it would focus on Marinette and Adrien finally learning the other's secret after all these years, right? Nope, it's a Lila episode, as in Lila is the character we follow. How does it open? By revealing that Lila has different moms she's conning into believing she's their daughter.
I believe Linkara best captures my reaction to this.
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YEP. Right out of the gate, we get arguably one of the dumbest plot twists in TV history. For an episode that's supposed to help us learn more about Lila's life, it's only raising more questions than it's answering, and it feels like it was there just for the sake of shocking the audience.
First off, why is she doing this? What does she possibly have to gain living with three random women who, as far as I can tell, have no political, social, or financial power whatsoever? Her entire motivation is lying to make herself look good so she can kiss up to famous people and ride the coattails of their success. Who the hell are these three people and why did Lila chose to pretend to be their daughter? In fact, are any of them even her biological mother?
Second, how did she even pull this off? I can somewhat buy her tricking her peers into believing her lies, but three grown women all believe this person is their daughter? Did she fake a DNA test or something? Did she frame some other kids for murder? Is one of them the kid in Omelas? Did the other moms adopt Lila? They must have, because I'm pretty sure any of them would know they were pregnant, but how did she fake being an orphan? How has she not been caught? The scene establishing this shows her ending a call with one of her mothers right as another one enters her room. You're telling me nobody has ever walked in on Lila talking with one of her mothers?
Third, just how long has she been doing this for? Has she been doing this her entire life? Did she frame her real mother for tax fraud at the age of five so she could explore the world? When the hell did she start doing this, and how did she even get the resources to do it? Does she have more than three moms?
Finally, what the hell does any of this tell us about Lila? We already know she's a liar and a villain, but what does learning she lies about who her mother is accomplish for the narrative. Outside of a single line to Sabine later on that heavily implies she wants to make her her next mother, this scene is entirely pointless. Sure, it shows how effective of a liar she is, but that's what the episode is already setting out to show us! We already know she's manipulative, so what's the point of any of this?!
Jesus Christ, we're only on the first scene, and I'm already pissed off. You see what I mean about these last seven episodes?
After lying some more, Lila learns an update to the Alliance rings has Kagami replace her as the female avatar. When she goes to ask Gabriel why he's cutting off ties with her, we learn just why Gabriel is such a tactical genius.
Gabriel: You were only the face of my brand in exchange for a mission: to monitor my son's relationships and keep him away from bad company. You failed. My son got close to this Marinette Dupain-Cheng who's been nothing but a terrible influence on him. But you did give me one excellent idea: to create a new media-friendly pairing for my son, which is why Kagami Tsurugi will be the new female face of the Gabriel brand. Perfection itself! All that remains to do is perpetuate this facade until it becomes truth in everyone's eyes. And until jealousy eats away at Marinette Dupain-Cheng...
Lila: But... What's to become of me?
Gabriel: You just remain what you are. Nothing.
Because it's not like Lila is easily your most competent ally (at least, by comparison), and is the only one who doesn't hate your guts, right? Seriously, Lila's biggest motivation other than fame is to ruin Marinette's life, and for the most part, as bad as the writing has been, she has been mostly effective in damaging her reputation (Chameleon, Ladybug, Adoration). For God's sake, if it wasn't for her, you would have been exposed as Monarch earlier this season in “Illusion”! Say what you will about Lila as a character and how stupid everyone acts when she's on-screen, but at least she's good at her job.
Lila walks off fuming, and Gabriel considers akumatizing her, but doesn't want to risk it because of how much she hates him... even though multiple Akumas over the course of the show were people who hated Gabriel or wanted revenge on him (The Bubbler, Simon Says, Style Queen, Heart Hunter, Passion, Action). It also doesn't stop him from akumatizing Lila later on in the episode, because her hatred is now directed at Marinette. And as we all know, it's physically impossible to hate more than one person at a time.
After a quick scene showing Marinette and Adrien's relationship is now public knowledge, we cut to class, where Ms. Bustier is handing back tests.
Also, despite being in the second trimester of her pregnancy (which hasn't been mentioned since the New York Special, over two years before this episode premiered), Ms. Bustier is wearing no maternity clothes to speak of, just her usual outfit with a noticeable baby bump.
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I'm obviously not an expert, but I don't think that's good for the baby. If anyone reading this has experience with being pregnant, feel free to correct me.
Ms. Bustier points out that Sabrina put her name on both hers and Chloe's. Ms. Bustier naturally wants to know what the hell is going on.
Ms. Bustier: How long has this been going on?
Chloe: Oh, since we learned to write-- I mean, since Sabrina did.
Yep, after almost five seasons, the writers are now officially resorting to making dumb blonde jokes, the only kind of humor rivaled by fart jokes and racist jokes in terms of being overused and unfunny.
Ms. Bustier lets Sabrina off with a warning and decides to help Chloe make up for the lost work and salvage her academic career. For some reason, even though this is a reasonable response to discovering one of your students has been cheating for years, Marintte has a problem with this.
Marinette: Everybody knows that Chloe been cheating, taking advantage of Sabrina and not making any efforts compared to the others... for years! And the only consequence is that she's going to get help?! Of course, we need to support students who have problems, but not when they're the problem!
If you had a problem with Chloe mistreating Sabrina, THEN WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL MS. BUSTIER YOURSELF? Even Lila points out that Marinette should have pointed this out to the teachers as class representative (I'm not sure if that's a thing in French schools, but let's assume it is for this episode's sake), but Marinette herself says she chose not to.
Marinette: Why would I have? She doesn't have difficulties! Only privileges! And if you need proof to see how the teachers will let her get away with anything!
What was it Alya said in “Origins”? Something about evil triumphing if good people do nothing? Eh, I'll think about it later.
Also, who's to say this isn't a punishment? Chloe is still going to have to make up her work, she'll need more attention from the faculty as a result, summer school is most likely on the table now, and who's to say her dad won't have problems with this? Yeah, we know he's a spineless coward, but let's assume he'll actually act like a parent for once, for the sake of argument.
Despite outright saying that she neglected her duties as class representative, Marinette is shocked Lila takes the chance to suggest she replace her for the job. Later at lunch, like what's happened in every other Lila episode, Marinette tries to tell Alya that Lila is a liar, Alya doesn't believe her for a second, and nothing changes. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that this time, Adrien and Nino are there too! That makes it different!
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Seriously, why are we still doing this? It's almost the end of Season 5, and even though Alya is one of Marinette's trusted confidants, the show still needs to have this drama with her not believing her. It honestly feels like a lot of the Lila episodes this season were originally written before Season 4 aired, but something changed, so they just threw them here when it makes no sense for Alya to still doubt Marinette after all this time. It's also why they randomly threw this line in to remind us that Alya knows.
Alya: You know, even Ladybug accepts help from Scarabella every once in a while.
Yeah, mind telling me what happened the last time Alya transformed into Scarabella?
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OH RIGHT.
It's during this little conversation where we get the first hint of the episode's moral, and believe me, I'll get to that. Alya tries to reason with Marinette that maybe it's possible for Lila to help Chloe change for the better, which Marinette vehemently refuses to believe. We're clearly supposed to see Alya as being too naive and is oblivious to Lila's true nature, but neither of them know just how bad she really is. We, the audience, know that Lila has worked with Gabriel and Monarch willingly in the past (Heroes' Day, Chameleon, Miraculer, Illusion, Adoration) and that she's living under several fake identities. Yeah, we know Lila hates Marinette and tried to get her expelled in “Ladybug”, but nobody else knows just how bad she is. It doesn't help that Marinette's reasons for Lila only amount to “She's a liar!”, and not “She tried to get me expelled!”, intentionally making her come across as petty so it's easier for Alya to doubt her.
Another thing that makes the whole “Alya thinks Lila can help Chloe change” deal is that we already know Marinette has done nothing to really stop her behavior as class representative or as Ladybug, so it's hard to really act like Marinette contributes a lot to the job, especially when, once again, she willingly admitted to not even trying to reach out to the other teachers about Chloe's grades or how she's using Sabrina to get by in class. Even though Alya doesn't know about Lila's true nature, she's not wrong when it comes to believing someone else could bring something new to the position of class representative.
And this only gets worse, as we see Lila's latest plan to win over the class.
Lila: My dear classmates, I am convinced that even the worst person can change if you reach out to them. And to prove it to you, Chloe, will you be my deputy?
(The whole class gasps in shock)
Chloe: (sighs and walks to the front, putting on a fake smile)
Nino: Wow, is Chloe actually going to be a mere deputy?
Alya: That is so not Chloe!
Rose: Does this mean it's already working?
Mylene: Can Lila actually get her to change?
Marinette: (slams her fists on her table) This is so crazy! It's all lies!
Lila: Poor Marinette... couldn't succeed because she was too busy with her love life, as well as being reminded of her disdain for Chloe. But you know me. You know all about my humanitarian work. I'm used to going into conflict zones. I can do this. There are two weeks left. What do you have to lose? Help me, help Chloe change. Vote for me!
OH, YOU NO GOOD MOTHERFU---
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Sorry, sorry. Had a little... episode there. Where were we?
Okay, first off, wow. Are you trying to seriously piss off your fanbase? The whole argument of being able to appeal to the humanity in the worst person is one of the biggest arguments people in favor of Chloe redemption make, so you know damn well this scene was targeted towards them. What was the original draft for this? A still image of Thomas Astruc flipping off the audience?
Second, once again, Lila isn't wrong. As far as we know, Marinette did nothing to really help or stop Chloe over the school year other than foiling the occasional scheme. While we know it's a lie, can you really blame the rest of the class for believing Lila will actually make things better for them by finding a way to stop Chloe from bullying them? It doesn't help that the case Marinette makes for her class representative campaign is that she's giving up on helping Chloe, saying she sucks, and that she's going to help the rest of the class instead. Because we all know showing blatant bias against one of your classmates is a surefire way to win the favor of your peers, right?
As for the speech itself? Well...
Marinette: My dear friends, of course, you should always do everything in your power to help people. And we all hoped that Chloe would become a better person. Ladybug reached out to her. Ms. Bustier reached out to her. So did Adrien and so did I. You all reached out to her. This proves how big your hearts are. And yet, Chloe remained the same. Why? Because as far as she's concerned, having a big heart is a weakness to be exploited. Chloe already believes she's better than all of us. So... don't be fooled. I, for one, am done wasting my energy in vain. As class representative, I'd much rather help all of you because you deserve it a thousand times more.
So here's the main moral of the episode, kids: If you ever decide to be the bigger person and show kindness to someone who is mean to you, it's going to bite you in the ass sooner or later, so never try helping other people change. I just... what the fuck, Astruc?
Yeah, the show tries to point out that being kind to others is still important, but the context of the episode itself doesn't show any examples. You could have used Kim as an example of someone who has changed his ways, but “Derision” retconned him into not being a bully, and Felix isn't even in this episode, so he can't be used as an example. The episode never really provides an argument showing the difference between people who can change their ways and people who choose not to, which is why the lesson doesn't work. How exactly is a child watching this supposed to tell when they're being taken advantage of for their kindness? For a show with an opening that has the lyrics, “The power of love always so strong”, this episode really isn't doing a lot to encourage its audience to show compassion to others.
And we're not done yet. Lila makes up a sob story relating to getting fired, and tearfully says there's no hope for Chloe. Once again, the writers think by having a villain say stuff certain fans believe in, it's meant to automatically invalidate the argument. What are you going to have Lila say next? “Felix should face consequences for his actions”? “Gabriel is far worse than Chloe will ever be”? “Somehow, Chloe is worse than either of her terrible parents”? I'm all ears here.
The entire story was a gambit by Lila so she'd have a cover story, as she plans to attract an Akuma with her sheer hatred for Marinette. Like I said earlier, Monarch assumes that since Lila hates Marinette at the moment, it's impossible for her to harbor any negative feelings towards his civilian identity, choosing to akumatize her into Hoaxer.
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Ignoring the fact that the name sounds like it belongs to an antidepressant, Hoaxer is an okay recolor of Volpina. There's not much else to say visually. Her powers involve brainwashing anyone who hears her lies through the Alliance rings... even though she was already able to manipulate others through lying, so this seems like a redundant power to give her. Sure, she can also teleport through the Alliance rings, but that's just something Lady Wifi could already do. Monarch also gives her the Fox Miraculous' Mirage to use so she can create fake footage to back up her lies... even though she already has the power to make everyone believe her lies. Yeah, this upgrade is kind of pointless, isn't it?
Hoaxer's first lie is to say that Marinette is really Monarch. With the exception of Adrien, Ivan, and Mylene (who don't wear Alliance rings), the entire class is brainwashed into hunting Marinette, believing they'll save Paris if they stop her. After Adrien points out how it wouldn't make sense for Marinette to be Monarch if she wants Lila to expose her secrets, he ducks out to transform into Cat Noir, soon meeting up with Ladybug.
Ladybug and Cat Noir steal an Alliance ring from Officer Roger to learn how this power works, only to learn the brainwashing is only effective as long as the victim is wearing an Alliance ring. Hoaxer senses that one of her victims lost their ring, so she turns the rest of Paris against the two heroes by saying that they're from the planet Saturn and fart bubbles that destroy the ozone layer. Believe me, I wish I was able to come up with a line that stupid.
Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, and gets a sewing machine. She goes back to her house, only to be ambushed by Alya. Ladybug takes off the ring and detransforms, lending the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya so she can transform into Scarabella as part of her plan. Because even though Alya has already been exposed three times in the past two seasons, the animators paid for the Scarabella model, and goddamn it, they're going to get their money's worth out of it. While Cat Noir fends off some brainwashed civilians, Hoaxer uses her powers on Nathalie to get her to send all of Gabriel's private secrets to her. How Monarch doesn't sense this is anyone's guess. Marinette pretends to appeal to Lila's conscience as part of a plan involving her, Scarabella, and Cat Noir, but Lila then rejects the Akuma with ease.
The Akuma somehow de-evilizes itself, Scarabella makes her only contribution to the fight by using Miraculous Scarabella to fix the damage, Monarch still doesn't know Lila now has intel on his civilian identity when he should have a telepathic link with her, and instead blames Marinette for all of his problems.
Back at school, Adrien apologizes to Marinette for not telling her to act against Lila, something that should be huge. It's just that both of them make it about how bad he feels, not about Marinette.
Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person.
Marinette: You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.
Nevermind the fact that Lila's lies haven't done anything to negatively affect Adrien at school, only Marinette, so his little pity doesn't feel earned. There's a difference between feeling bad about something and making it all about you. Also, once again, the episode's moral still comes across less like “mean people can take advantage of your kindness” and more like “never trust anyone, as your attempts to show kindness can backfire horribly on you”.
Lila is elected class representative, and Alya still believes her over Marinette. How does Marinette respond?
Marinette: I decided to let her have her way so I can finally prove to you all who she really is.
Spoiler alert, next episode, someone other than Marinette does the heavy lifting to expose Lila, and I doubt it was ever part of Marinette's plan.
The episode ends with Lila learning all of Gabriel's secrets, which would have been a much better opportunity for her to learn he's Monarch instead of learning about it off-screen as far back as “Emotion”.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... MARINETTE
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Once again, Gabriel was very close to earning the Biggest Idiot Award for the third time for ditching Lila for no reason and later giving her the tools needed to learn his deepest and darkest secrets, but Marinette edged him out here. Not only did Marinette outright admit to neglecting her responsibilities as class representative, blamed Ms. Bustier for not doing anything about Chloe when she hasn't done anything to stop her either, and made a very poor argument for her reelection campaign by saying that being nice is bad. But hey, maybe her genius plan next episode will make up for it.
“Confrontation” starts off with Adrien struggling to fill out an orientation form for what kind of school he wants to go to next year and what he'll study. I'm not really an expert in French schools, but I'll assume this is how things are done there. Either way, Adrien isn't willing to fill out the form because as we saw in “Pretension”, Gabriel is planning on sending him to a private school in London next year. Why Adrien wasn't excused from this assignment is beyond me.
Adrien: If Marinette finds out that my father's decided to send me to a private school in London next year, it will break her heart and mine, too.
Again, it's really funny how a huge portion of his screentime in Season 4 involved being angry at Ladybug for keeping secrets from him, yet now, Adrien sees nothing wrong with keeping secrets from Marinette, even when it's inevitable that she'll find out. Then again, Plagg's response isn't any better.
Plagg: I know how I would feel if I had to be separated from you, Adrien, and there is nothing funny about that at all.
Then why did you force Adrien to give up his Miraculous in “The Kwamis' Choice”?! I'm pretty sure that was all your idea, as was what happened afterwards with Monarch almost winning.
As Marinette worries about the career stuff, but through some flashbacks showing just how selfish and one-dimensional Chloe and Lila are, she's not exactly confident they have her best interests in mind. Also, remember how Marinette said she supposedly let Lila win at the end of the last episode in order to make progress on finding a way to stop her?
Marinette: I feel like I'm betraying our friends by entrusting their forms to such awful girls.
As we'll later learn, while she does come up with a plan to expose Lila, it was after this scene that it happened, so this doesn't really make it look like Marinette has any ideas to stop Lila after she won at the end of the last episode. After the rest of the class fills out their forms, Lila destroys them all so Sabrina can forge their handwriting. Of course, not before we get another “funny” scene where Chloe struggles to understand their own plan.
Lila: After you destroy the forms, you'll fill out new ones using your talent for forging student's handwriting. I'll tell you what to write.
Chloe: Not so fast! You're using too many words to explain your plan!
GET IT? DO YOU GET IT?! SHE'S RICH AND BLONDE, SO THAT MEANS SHE'S STUPID! WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING AT THIS COMEDY GOLD?!
Meanwhile, Nino calls for another meeting of the totally useful and not at all irrelevant Resistance, citing an issue. Because they're all planning to go to different schools next year, they're not sure how they can help Ladybug and Cat Noir... other than, oh, I don't know, meeting outside of school? It doesn't matter, because everyone unanimously volunteers to go to the same high school next year. Well, everyone except Nathaniel, but that's not important.
After Marinette gets a call from someone, Mylene suggests that the class go on strike against being forced to decide their careers so early in life. This would have made a lot more sense if you chose to do this before submitting your forms, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Adrien finally figures out what he wants to do, so he hands his form over to Lila. What did he write down?
Lila: (reading the letter) “I've been thinking a lot, and still not know what I would like to do later in life. The only thing I know for sure is that I love Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But I guess that doesn't really help you. I'm sorry. Adrien Agreste.”
Minimum wage at Wendy's it is. Good choice, Adrien.
Yeah, I think now's as good a time as any to talk about how flat Adrien's character has been this season. Even though Adrien has gotten more character focus thanks to not being hampered by loads of other side characters and temp heroes, he hasn't really had a lot of strong moments overall. Scenes that should feel like a big deal, like him accidentally Cataclysming Monarch or realizing he has feelings for Marinette are usually downplayed or brushed off so we can see how those events affect other characters. We don't get any scenes with Adrien feeling guild for possibly condemning a man to death because more focus is given to Gabriel dealing with his impending demise. We don't get any scenes that show how Adrien has come to see Marinette in a romantic light because more focus is given to Marinette struggling to deal with his sudden confession. And here's this scene. Rather than showing Adrien developing an interest in something he wants to do for a career, a huge sign of his growing independence, what do we get? Adrien saying he loves Marinette and admitting he has no goddamn idea what he wants to do with his life. Such a defining moment for one of the two main characters in the show. I'm just saying, if the last season made a big deal about Adrien wanting to be treated more importantly, why is he still getting shafted by the narrative?
And for the umpteenth time this season, because Chloe is the one saying that Adrien's form is “pathetic”, we're supposed to not agree with her, even though this is supposed to be a serious form that your teachers will see. Just what is this show's obsession with using strawmen to try and invalidate criticism? I've seen more nuanced takes from political cartoons.
Lila and Chloe present the forged forms to the teachers, assigning all kinds of inaccurate assignments for careers that the students don't want. Lila manages to get one student in particular held back, Marin—Juleka. Yeah, Juleka, Lila's most hated enemy is being forced to repeat a year. Why didn't Lila try to keep Marinette held back?
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To be fair, Lila's plan is to slander Marinette specifically, but screwing over the entire class feels like a bit of a reach. I don't even know if part of Lila's plan was to attract an Akuma or not. Speaking of, Monarch senses Juleka's negative emotions and sends a Megakuma her way. Because it's a day that ends with a “Y”, the Magical Charm does nothing, so for the sixth time in the series (not counting her brief appearance in “Ladybug”), Juleka is akumatized into Reflekta. I swear, at this point you could make a drinking game for every time an old character model is reused this season.
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Reflekta's design is pretty alright. I like the idea of the shy and quiet Juleka getting a brightly colored form that's impossible to ignore, and her power to make everyone else look like her fits her character. Unlike other returning Akumas this season, Reflekta gets a noticeable upgrade to her powers, as now she can essentially create a hive mind with all of her victims on top of getting the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to do some extra damage. Wow, it's almost like the Miraculous powers should actually serve as upgrades to established powers instead of being the only thing that gives the Akuma their powers.
Reflekta goes to town assimilating more victims, Marinette does nothing to get the still pregnant Ms. Bustier to safety so she can dart off and transform into Ladybug. By the time Ladybug and Cat Noir meet up, the city is crawling with Reflektas.
Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic tape dispenser. Using Cat Noir's staff and the tape, the two put up a fake brick wall poster in an alleyway. The two heroes split up and draw a Reflekta's attention respectively, pretending to be helpless once they reach a “dead end” at the fake brick wall. When the two Reflektas try to use Clout, Ladybug and Cat Noir duck out of the way, letting the two attacks collide.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Megakuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and gives Juleka yet another useless Magical Charm.
And while you'd think this is where the episode ends, unfortunately, we're only halfway done. Id anything, this entire fight was pointless, and it's going to lead to a lot of problems with the pacing later on.
Back at school, Lila takes the opportunity to pin the blame on Marinette, though when Marinette points out how good Sabrina is at forging handwriting, Sabrina admits to helping them out. While the blame is still on Marinette, Chloe and Lila follow Sabrina when she runs out of the classroom. In the bathroom, Sabrina is still upset about what she had to do, and when Chloe and Lila confront her and try to keep her in line, only for Sabrina to reveal it was a trap for Chloe and Lila to confess their plan in front of the rest of the class, and one that had been set up a few days ago by Sabrina and Marinette.
So after an episode that went out of its way to show how apologetically irredeemable Chloe and Lila are, Sabrina is the one to ultimately turn a new leaf and is the key player in stopping Chloe and Lila's tyranny. Let's go into all the reasons as to why this failed to be a triumphant moment.
First off, why is Sabrina the key player who helps finally expose Lila? Why not Adrien, or Alya, or anyone else in Marinette's class? Rather than work together with her friends to show she wasn't lying, Marinette only works with Sabrina, and they act like they're the close friends working together. What, you thought Adrien or maybe Alya would help Marinette expose Lila like the end of the last episode hinted at? HA! Of course not.
Second, Sabrina's redemption is forced as hell. I'm not saying Sabrina turning a new leaf is entirely impossible, but the show just expects us to forget all the times she's gone along with Chloe's bullying antics (Origins, Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wifi, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, Darkblade, Reflekta, Zombizou, Stormy Weather 2, Lies, Sole Crusher, Gabriel Agreste, Derision, Adoration), and even in this episode, she still helped forge the new forms for Chloe and Lila. Remember how “Derision” said Chloe's actions couldn't be excused by how poorly she was treated by her mother? Funny how Sabrina's actions can be excused by how poorly she was treated by Chloe. The redemption honestly could have worked if it was Marinette who reached out to Sabrina and saw the good in her, teaching the lesson that while some people refuse to change, that doesn't mean other people can't change either. But instead, Sabrina's just a good guy because the plot said so, a deus ex Sabrina if you will.
Third, this was Marinette's plan to stop Lila? Like I said, while the previous episode made it seem like Marinette had an idea on how to expose Lila, this episode showed that Marinette had absolutely no plans prior Sabrina's call, and she handed over the sheets to Chloe and Lila earlier. What was Marinette even going to do if Sabrina didn't call? This only makes Sabrina's redemption feel even more forced, because that was what led to Chloe and Lila being exposed.
And finally, we don't even get a lot of resolution with Marinette's classmates believing Lila over her once she's exposed.
Yes, there was a deleted scene where Alya and the others apologize to Marinette instead of just Ms. Bustier which was supposedly cut for time constraints, but why would you leave that out when Marinette's friends believing Lila over her has always been a sore spot among viewers? If only there was another scene that could have been cut out of the episode that added nothing to the plot over an important character moment showing how guilty Marinette's friends feel.
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Chloe and Lila are expelled by Mr. Damocles, but then he gets a call from Andre ordering him to keep them in and do nothing to change the forged forms. Normally, this would be something to make Andre out to be a bad guy, but like Sabrina, because he's being belittled and ordered around by someone else (in this case, Audrey), we're meant to sympathize with him. Trust me, it gets even worse next episode.
Mr. Damocles is upset enough to attract another Megakuma from Monarch. You would think Marinette would transform into Ladybug and save him,but the episode does something different. Somehow, because of the other students telling him to believe in himself, all of their Magical Charms resonate with Mr. Damocles' Magical Charm. And then, his Magical Charm transforms into a shield which de-evilizes the Akuma as soon as it touches it?
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I'm sorry, WHAT!?
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Yeah... that just happened. I'm happy the Magical Charm actually did something for once, but I don't get why this was the climax of the episode. Why did this episode spend more time focusing on Juleka, Sabrina, and Mr. Damocles instead of Marinette's final battle of wits with Lila? Forget it, it's almost over anyway.
Mr. Damocles sends in the correct forms for the students before he resigns as principal, and we then cut to Ms. Bustier realizing that Chloe is pure evil and needs to face consequences for her actions. What does Chloe say that causes her to come to this revelation?
Ms. Bustier: Where's Lila?
Chloe: How should I know? I'm not the betrayer's mother.
Yep. A somewhat rude answer to a question Chloe doesn't even know the answer to is the last straw for Ms. Bustier. Maybe it's the hormones? Ms. Bustier decides to give extra attention to Chloe going forward, and somehow, that's different from Ms. Bustier wanting to help Chloe make up her schoolwork at the beginning of the last episode. But what happened to Lila, you may ask?
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Oh my God, she's cosplaying as T'pol from Star Trek: Enterprise! The fiend!
Yep, Lila abandoned her old school and moved onto one of her other lives, now calling herself Cerise. Okay, a few questions.
First, was she wearing makeup as Lila or something? I'm not sure if it's the lighting in this one scene, but I swear, her skin looks lighter than Cerise here.
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Second, how is Lila going to blend in under her new identity when for a while, she was the face of the Gabriel brand? What, is she going to claim that “Lila” is her twin sister or something?
Third, if Lila's trying to blend in as Cerise, why did she throw her old wig in the trash, in broad daylight?
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Fourth, why wasn't this scene the one used to establish Lila has multiple lives? It actually feels plot-relevant, unlike the revelation of her having three different mothers last episode.
Finally, we're really going to brush over Lila facing any setback to her vague goals? She got expelled, and we don't even get to see her face consequences for her actions after all these years? What a load...
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...MARINETTE
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Yep, Marinette got the award twice in the same two-parter, and this is her third one at that. Adrien was sort of close to winning it with his stupid application form and not doing anything to stop Lila himself, and even though Marinette's plan to expose Lila worked, I still had to give it to her. She willingly gave her and her friends application forms to Chloe and Lila without any plans in case they tried something bad, had absolutely no plan to stop Lila in general until Sabrina came alone, and didn't think to simply de-evilize a Megakuma targeting her principal when Lila was able to sneak out with no problem.
Anyway, these episodes SUCK. I know it might not seem as noticeable compared to my reviews last season, as I've been trying to not get too angry, but I still couldn't stand these episodes.
As always, Lila's lies are incredibly stupid and don't work under the suspension of disbelief, especially with what we learn about her here. What I don't get is that we still don't know why Lila does what she does. I still don't know why she is so obsessed with getting the better of Marinette and Gabriel outside of being petty, and given what happens by the end of the season, it makes her unclear motivation even less excusable. In a pair of episodes meant to give more focus to Lila as she tries to ruin Marinette's reputation right before the school year ends, we really needed more depth for her character.
Marinette wasn't any better. What should have been a standout moment for her this season, she spent most of these two episodes complaining about Chloe and Lila when she did nothing to really stop them, and only made progress when Sabrina had a change of heart out of nowhere. Hell, even then, Chloe and Lila barely faced any setbacks for their actions. Marinette honestly felt very underutilized in what should have been an important set of episodes for the season.
Adrien didn't fare any better. He barely got to do anything and unlike Marinette, he wasn't even involved with the final plan, despite the ending of “Revelation” hinting that he and Marinette were going to work together to stop Lila. And then there's the form he filled out where he pretty much confirmed that he has no goals in life and that the writers just have no idea what the hell they want to do with him now that he's Marinette's boyfriend.
But let's talk about what I think really killed these two episodes, specifically “Confrontation”: The unnecessary focus on side characters. I can understand why Ms. Bustier needed more focus in these episodes, considering it was focused on the school environment, but I can't give that kind of lenience to “Confrontation”. That episode decided rather than focusing on Marinette finally outsmarting Lila, we needed more focus on Sabrina, Juleka, and Mr. Damocles. Why did we need to give Sabrina a change of heart over Marinette's friends working together to help her expose Lila? Why did we need Juleka to be targeted by Lila and subsequently akumatized by Monarch in a gambit to slander Marinette when all Lila had to do was have it look like Marinette tampered with Chloe's form? Why did we need an extended sequence of Mr. Damocles fending off an Akuma with the help of his class when he had no real presence in this arc, and if anything, took Chloe and Lila's side more often than not (Ladybug, Derision)? I don't get why the writers chose the tail end of the season to actually develop some of its side characters at the expense of major players like Marinette, Adrien, and Lila.
Look, these episodes were just awful, okay? And somehow, things manage to get worse as we get closer and closer to the end of the season.
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sytoran · 1 year
Text
𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌.
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in which natasha is a lovable, mischievous little shit and you have to deal with her antics.
──── ♥ pairing. gf!natasha x gn!reader
──── ♥ cont. fluff, established relationship, implied sexual references, innuendos, romance, natasha is an adorable little bean who can do no wrong
──── ♥ note. i just want to hug and kiss and hold her
masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist
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"i'm in the mood."
blinking slowly, you look away from your paperwork to grace your girlfriend with calculative eyes. scanning over her choice of clothes, or lack thereof, as she sits herself into your lap while you're working from home.
having effectively stradled your lap, you had no choice but to pay your clingy girlfriend a pinch of attention.
"in the mood for what, darling?' you ask softly, tracing your hands up and down the sides of her thighs. you think you know the answer.
natasha smiles slowly, nuzzling her head into your chest, deeply inhaling your scent. “you know what i mean, baby.”
you look at her expectantly, a smirk growing on your face. you cradle her head in your hands, tilting it up to look at you. it’s endearing, how pink her cheeks are. you can’t help the way your sides of your lips quirk up.
“really? like, that mood, mood?” you ask, genuinely. it was rare that natasha needed you so badly, to the extent of deterring you from your work, much less at eight in the morning.
“yep!” your girlfriend replies cheerfully, shifting in your lap. she presses a kiss to your neck, and you feel a shiver travel up your spine. boy, she was making it hard to focus. “i’m very much in the mood.”
natasha laughs into your warm skin, loving the effect she inflicted on you. “hurry up, baby, please?” she asked, inquisitively.
oh, how were you to deny your girlfriend looking at you longingly with those eyes?
in a sweeping motion, you’ve stood up with natasha still cradled in your arms. within seconds, you practically toss her over your shoulders, clutching her single-handedly by the back of her thighs. natasha laughs, the joyful sound like music to your ears.
you exit the room with your girlfriend still on your shoulders, all while listening to her excited giggles. as you turn to the right in the corridor, natasha interrupts you quite rudely. not that you could ever be mad at her. “where are ya going? i said i was in the mood!”
natasha scrambles in your grasp, forcing you to let her down. almost instantaneously, natasha finds her way into your arms, legs wrapping around your torso with a vice grip.
“i’m so confused right now, sweetheart,” you say truthfully, eyes wide. did you do something wrong? “you said you were in the mood.”
“yeah!” natasha says with a little bit of sass, pointing to the kitchen, which was the opposite way from which you were walking. “in the mood for ice cream!”
“...ice cream?” 
“yeah, duh.”
you look at your girlfriend, embarrassment taking over your features for a moment. had you misread the situation that badly? 
“really?” you ask, hands moving to cup at natasha’s sides, instinctively stroking up and down once again. “i was thinking a different kind of cream, baby.” 
natasha lets out a shriek at your dirty comment, whacking your head. you try to duck and fail miserably – you end up dropping natasha in your shock. she yelps, clutching onto you for support. you, in the first place, had lost your balance.
that little catastrophe somehow ended up with natasha pinned to the ground with you laying above her, breathing heavily. you stare into her eyes, taking note of the newly-dilated pupils. you lick your lips.
you feel natasha trailing her hands up your back, going to pull you in for a kiss.
you get up at a lightning-quick speed. “ice cream it is,” you announce, helping your girlfriend up — who was still trapped in her momentary haze of lust.
oh, two could play this game.
natasha huffs in disappointment, letting you drag her to the kitchen for the ice cream.
it was only after half an hour that natasha decided the ice cream could wait.
this time, she lets you carry her on your shoulder towards the bedroom.
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taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @gay4lizzie @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @scarsw1fe @jlsammy23 @gingerninja-93 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @Lovebelt @lexscursed26 @godsfavouritelesbiann @bvrxbre @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33-mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @lovelyy-moonlight @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen
random blurb lets goooo
masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist
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Touch Me like No Man Could Ever~ Peggy Carter xFem Reader
Hey hey hey.
I was feeling a bit deprived of some female touch, so I wrote this. And yes, it doesn’t exactly follow plot line but give me some grace lol. So here it is; Peggy Carter and her milf energy.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, eating out, implied fucking, mommy kink, bit of an age gap (all legal), overall milf energy
About short to medium length… sorry I didn’t count lol.
Enjoy (;
It started out with her moving into your apartment. “Margaret Carter, Call me Peggy” she had said when you two had first met. Everything had been going smoothly. She went to work at her phone company, and you did your studies. Yes, she was a bit older than you, but that was no matter. In fact, it was quite lovely having a more responsible and caretaking roommate, who wouldn’t party all night or bring a different boy back every night like the roommates of the past. No, Peggy was civilized. And kind.
But as she was hungrily eating you out on the kitchen table, you began to rethink your previous conclusion. Civilized? No, this woman was carnal. And in the hottest way. The way she ate your pussy out, you could have sworn you saw god.
This whole thing had started because Peggy had come back from her work early clearly ticked off. She muttered something about “Thompson��� as she put on the kettle. “Something the matter, Peg?” you had asked her. She had deflected your question with her usually concern for you and your well-being. “Well ok then” you had said as you continued to read your book, not wanting to pry but desperately wanting to know. And then all of a sudden Peg huffed “I just do not understand.” Understand what?” you asked, setting your book down. “Men.” she said with another heavy sigh, “Bloody Men.”
She just wouldn’t stop. You were on your third or fourth orgasm, you had simply lost count. And by now she was curling her fingers inside your walls with her lips brushing your ears. “Cum for me again, Darling. Fuck, give me one more”.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t get men either” you chuckled. She huffed as she poured herself some hot tea. She asked if you’d want some, and you politely declined as always. “What about men exactly?” you asked unprompted, but it just slipped out. She sighed heavily again and began a long winded answer to your question which you slowly started to regret as a wet spot began to pool in your undergarments. She rounded of her tangent by stating “And then there’s the way all men approach women; with the simple idea that we will just open our legs for them the second they get in our near area!” You gulped and just sat there, staring at her. Fuck, you’d open her legs for her if she came in your near vicinity…
That thought seemed highly ironic now, as she made you see stars for the fourth or fifth time in a row on the kitchen table. But this time, your voice couldn’t resist itself as you moaned “Fuuuuuck, Mommy”.
Now you got bold, “Show me what you mean, I’m not sure I understand”. Boy, would you regret that statement, as Peg walked up to you and opened your legs. In fact you immediately regretted the statement, because she instantly noticed her ever growing wet spot. And she just smirked, leaned in and whispered “Let me show you, Darling”
She looked up at you in surprise at first but immediately replaced with lust. “Say it again” she taunted. “Mommy…” you mewled, completely out of it from the fourth, fifth, or whatever numbers of climaxes she had pushed you over. “Say it again and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember your own name” she taunted with even more lust coating her voice. “Mommmmmy” you moaned in her ear, almost begging her to continue, She just chuckled darkly. And let’s just say that you got no sleep that night and could definitely not walk in the morning. Oh, and that Mommy definitely fulfilled her promise…
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moony-2001 · 5 months
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Lore Olympus ep. 254 critique
Well I can officially say that Persephone is the most selfish person in the comic
What in the Disney ripoff
So obviously it’s too late and Zeus is poisoned and ✨wow, how convenient✨ Apollo is suddenly there with Leto (who btw we haven’t seen in almost 100 episodes). I don't really want to focus on his confrontation with Eros and Psyche, because let's be real, it wasn't much of a confrontation. No, instead I want to focus on this:
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My first thought when I saw the whole blackmail scene coupled with this was "What in the Lion King is this bullshit." Seriously. This is almost verbatim to what Scar says to Simba (except Scar as a villain is actually intimidating and Apollo, well...).
But here's the thing. This is how stupid Apollo is as a villain. Hebe has the least to gain from Zeus' poisoning and death. Look at the list of children that could stand to benefit from Zeus' demise:
An angry War god who was banished to the mortal realm for years by Zeus for pissing him off. Additionally, Zeus slept with his then-romantic partner and was implied to sleep with her often
The estranged daughter who literally thrives on chaos and is basically the goddess of "it's getting a little too chummy around here" who has beef with not only Zeus, but also Hera
A newly revealed son who has a tendency to heavily push boundaries and can't take no for an answer. This son additionally has been making moves to gain power politically
Compare this to Hebe, who we have only seen being kind to Zeus. No where in the comic is she seen harboring any kind of resentment towards him. Even when she criticizes him, it is gentle and she doesn’t push any further when he lays down the law.
Not only that but the whole prophecy- the usurp of power prophecy that Uranus got about Kronos, and Kronos got about his children, and so on- only applies to the sons of the tyrant in question. That was established in the myths, both in the Theogony and the Metamorphosis via a prophecy that usually came from Gaia. So that immediately takes Eris off the suspect list by virtue of the fact that she is a goddess. But even then, Hebe still shouldn't be a suspect.
How is Rachel expecting people to fall for this? Even her audience in some respect is calling out Apollo for being "back on his bullshit". Yet I can almost guarantee that everyone is going to fall for it because the only 2 gods who actually know are trapped in jail, Cassandra is probably going to disappear from the narrative for a while, and the rest of the general cast of characters only shares 2 brain cells between the lot of them. I can't wait to see this drag out over the course of, like, 15 episodes.
The most selfish thing
I just… wow. I have no words. Except yes I do or otherwise I wouldn’t be making this post. So we transition to the second half of the chapter where Persephone talks about her nonexistent connection with the snow and how maybe, just maybe, this is all her. Just like her act of wrath and what she did to Minthe, she has no one to blame but herself. And then she straight up goes “nah”.
I will be the first to admit, the way Rachel wrote Demeter during Persephone's homecoming/proposal was horrific. Demeter behaved horribly to Persephone. Now, I more blame Rachel for poor writing because if you have to make side characters look worse so your protagonists can look better, you suck at writing. BUT that does not excuse Demeter's initial actions and behavior toward Persephone.
However, in this situation, Demeter is not putting Persephone down for what she’s done. Obviously, Demeter is distressed, but she basically says “You tried, but now it’s time for the adults to handle it” and Hades agrees. He fucking agrees.
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Demeter is far more capable and mature than Persephone due to being around for thousands of years. Demeter has had experience, she’s worked hard at maintaining everything, and she has even had hardships and failures. But because of this, she is a very very powerful goddess. Thus it makes the most sense for Demeter to step in to handle this situation. It is what's best for everyone, most of all for the mortal realm, which has been immediately affected.
But because Persephone has been told over and over that she’s hot shit, she's special (and has been treated as such), her ego can’t take the blow. She can’t take the L. She makes everything worse because she can’t stand the idea that she’s not special and that she's not this big bad goddess who has control over her abilities.
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To me, this is so selfish. Persephone acknowledges that everything is dead. She acknowledges that she is the cause of this destruction. Yet she knowingly makes it worse because her ego can not handle the fact that she isn’t miss fucking perfect. This is the epitome of a child’s temper tantrum- like how when Nemo swims out to sea to touch the boat after Marlin tells him he can't do it. Because that’s what Persephone is. A child. In this case, it does not matter that she’s the age of an adult mortal woman. She is a god. She hasn’t even been around for 100 years. She still doesn’t have a handle on her powers. Persephone is being immature and selfish by stomping her feet and going “No, I can do it." Because of that, she makes everything so much worse.
Hades naturally makes this worse by enabling her. Although I genuinely can’t say I’m surprised since Hades has a history (especially post-marriage) of enabling Persephone’s bad behavior (like rewarding Persephone with sex after destroying the apartment of Leuce and threatening to kill her). When asked rightfully by Demeter if he’s going to do anything to try and talk her off the wall since Persephone has a history of not listening to anything Demeter has to say, Hades basically goes “Nah, my hands are tied, nothing I can do”, Despite the fact that he saw the destruction she caused and ACKNOWLEDGED IT WAS TIME FOR THE ACTUAL ADULTS TO STEP IN. This could’ve been a great moment for someone who wasn’t portrayed as a force against H&P (like the main love interest/husband) to hold her accountable. To say “That’s enough”. But nooooooo. No one, not even her own husband, is allowed to get in Persephone’s way.
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Thus, Persephone continues to cause mass destruction and death until she passes out (this is important to note) and Demeter rightfully loses her damn shit.
Final thoughts
This is, I think, the worst chapter of Lore Olympus. Genuinely. As I stated in my last post, I had no idea where Rachel was going to take the whole “Persephone causes winter” idea and that there was no way she could make it more feminist than the original hymn. And boy was I right. Because I guess nothing is more feminist to Rachel than an ego-fueled power trip that results in the death of life in the mortal realm and also probably a good portion of the mortals who probably aren’t built to handle this kind of weather (by Persephone’s own admission that the mortal realm doesn’t get cold).
I'd also like to end on this note: if you're going to be a writer or artist or comic writer, don't treat your audience like they're fucking stupid.
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Remember that little note I made about how it's important to remember that Persephone passes out? Yeah, well, that's because Persephone is actually unconscious and not dead. In literature and media today, people often use some version of the phrase "you've killed [x]" as a way to say not that whatever [x] is, is actually dead, but that it died in a metaphorical sense. You see a great example of this in the season finale of Arcane with Jinx. Powder doesn't actually die; Jinx is still very much alive. But Jinx metaphorically obliterated Powder to make room for the new her. The new Jinx, unburdened by her old self.
And that's what Demeter is saying. Hell, Hades even said that Persephone wasn't dead after presumably checking her vitals. Anyone who read the chapter would recognize this. But I guess Rachel thinks her audience doesn't have more than a 4th-grade level of reading comprehension because why else would she put in this, frankly demeaning, message at the end.
Oh boy. Welp. See y'all in my next post.
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foggylikemyvision · 2 years
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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰...
(reader spawns in jean's office, says fuck you instead of answering questions and curls up into a ball and passes out.
tldr; reader is fed up with this shit and wants to take a nap, chaos ensues.)
they/them reader.
incredibly self indulgent, been in the works for a couple months now, and I am projecting very heavily on this. reader is lowkey a burnt out gifted kid now lmao
not proofread beware
cw: implied abuse, neglect, and other unhealthy traits such as overeating and oversleeping/undersleeping at the same time.
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You who were once so gifted.
The world is a cruel, cruel place. You knew that better than most people. Your bed was soft and warm, despite your unheated room and thin blankets. It comforted you through thick and thin, and you would forever be grateful. Sweet vanilla wafted through your nose, which would be comforting if not for the fact you had such terrible memories accompanied by the scent. Your eyes drifted shut unwillingly as you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A new scent made it's way into your nose, the unsettling smell of vanilla bean candles left you, making your body relax. If it were not for the fact you then fell onto a hard surface from roughly 3 feet in the air, you would have fallen even deeper into your slumber. You still had your blanket with you, amazingly enough. You clutched it to your skin even further as you grumbled.
"What the fuck," you growled at nothing. Your eyes drifted up to assess your surroundings. You stared at a wide-eyed Jean Gunnhildr, whose body was hunched over as if writing.
"You know what?" You muttered, "Fuck this, fuck you respectfully, fuck everything. I'm going to find a soft place to curl up in, and I'm going to pass out. Good night." You prove your point by walking to the corner of the room and balling up, your blanket wrapped around you like a protective shell. The slight smell of dandelions and fresh air comforted you. All you heard was a sigh and the feeling of a blanket being laid on top of you, which you appreciated deeply. Your eyes softly closed and you lost consciousness almost instantly.
~
The smell of roses and dandelions greeted you as you awoke. The soft smell of the dandelions mixed with the alluring scent of the roses was quickly coaxing you back to sleep, and you tried to do just that. You suppose you moved to much, though.
"Oh? Jean, dear, it seems they're awake." A flirty voice spoke, you could've sworn you recognized it. Your heart jumped at the sudden noise and you flinched violently. You groaned at the revelation you couldn't go back to sleep. Soft, smooth hands wrapped around your ball, and you were tugged into someone's lap.
"Well, then we should try and find out what answers we can get out of them." You peeked your face out of the blankets and saw the dandelion knight herself staring you down. Despite the fact you were excited to see Jean, she had woken you from your sleep and you were unamused. You only turned away and cuddled back into your weave of blankets. The one whose lap you were in, Lisa, you assumed, tried to get your head back out so you could answer questions. You nestled deeper into the weave.
"Come on, cutie." Lisa muttered, slowly getting annoyed. You let out a soft groan as you were thrown out of the early stages of sleep.
You tried to enter your mindscape and ignore all of the voices and senses, but you never got a moment of peace with all the poking and prodding Lisa was doing. Clearing your mind, you inhaled and exhaled deeply. A light fog entered your mind, and suddenly the senses felt lighter, more manageable. You slowed your breathing greatly, and the fog got thicker. You could hardly tell the touches and voices were even there. You yawned deeply, and soon there was no space in your mind uncovered by the brain fog. It was easy to close your eyes from there.
~
Lisa was starting to get annoyed. First this mysterious stranger pops up in Jean's room to do nothing more than pass out in the corner, and the next they refuse to wake up and answer questions?
She can't be too mad, though. She herself values a good night's rest, and the way they flinched so violently was a concerning sign. The glimpse she caught of your eyes was enough to see how dull they were. The way Lisa saw you just stop reacting to the way she prodded at you made her realize you had completely left reality, at that rate.
"Well, we wont be getting any answers from them when they're like this." Lisa sighed. Jean tilted her head questioningly, "What do you mean, Lisa?"
"How should I put this,, they aren't exactly in reality at the moment." Jean only looked more confused. "They're in their mindscape and they've got brain fog," she simplified. Jean only nodded as she realized. Lisa sighed, mulling over everything in her head.
"I don't think they're safe at home, dear." Lisa stated.
"What do you mean?" Jean replied, confused like a deer in headlights.
"They flinched, so so hard when I spoke out of nowhere, and their eyes were oh so dull too." Lisa said.
"Well, that could happen to anyone. It doesn't mean they're unsafe at home, just that life might have given them a bad hand or they're tired of life." Jean concluded.
"Jean, they've got a mindscape. Not just anyone has one of those, and little to no one can just tune out their senses of all things." Lisa spoke, her eyes filled with concern.
"Only time will tell, love." Jean sighed, kissing Lisa on the forehead and returning to her work.
Lisa, trapped beneath the mess of (f/c) & teal blankets and sleeping person, sighed and shut her eyes, laying back contentedly. Only time will tell indeed. Jean always was so wise.
~
Looking back, maybe falling asleep in the middle of a slightly familiar place where you knew two strangers but those two strangers didn't know you, wasn't the best idea. Your eyes fluttered open, exiting your 3/4-sleep 1/4-daze. The perpetual sleepiness never left you, unsurprisingly. You grumbled and turned back over, shutting your eyes once more.
"Nuh-uh, little one." You hear from above. Your blanket nest is softly opened by a gloved hand. You groan quietly, a light pout coating your mouth. That didn't last for long, as a far too common yawn exited your throat.
"Dear, would you pass me the tea?" Lisa whispers at the dandelion knight, who in turn passed the off-white mug to Lisa. The witch brought it up to your lips, which you accepted gratefully. Hours of sleep with no water does a number on your throat, after all.
Somewhere, far off in your mind, you wondered if this was a bad idea. You hadn't had a bad childhood, not by a long shot. People had it worse, and you knew that. Your parents never hit you beyond a couple spanks when you were quite younger (You try not to think about why your father hit as hard as he could when you were only 3), and they never withheld food from you (They almost did.)So, thus, there was nothing to complain about. They fed you, they gave you love (Barely.), they gave you shelter, they never hit you (Yes they did.). Life was good (Was it?). You couldn't help your mind from wandering and making up scenarios, it was never as bad as you made it out to be.
A shadow flew overhead, and you flinched heavily despite knowing nothing would hit you. Your (e/c) eyes flickered open and up to Lisa's green ones. Concern raged like a fire inside her eyes. You turned to look up and saw the concerned face of Jean. Ah, so that's what the shadow was. Your lips twitched into a dry smile.
You didn't know how long had passed. You didn't care to know. The bruise, previously a yellowing blue and hidden by your hoodie, was now a vibrant gold. (You try to ignore the fact it's shaped like a handprint.)
You were slightly held by Lisa, which you paid no mind to as you knew she was a touchy character (Your skin crawls with the contact despite it being welcome.) .
"Why are you here?" Jean questioned. You only shrugged with a quick mutter of an 'I dunno'. Jean sighed at the answer.
"Who are you?" Lisa asked from above you.
"(Y/N) (L/N)," You spoke through a yawn. Your eyes started to drift closed, but Lisa quickly pinched your cheek to keep you awake. Jean gasped above you, and you tilted your head in confusion.
"I had my suspicions," Lisa sighed. You sat up and shook the sleep from your head, confused. You didn't notice your hoodie shift. More gasps rang out from around you as you stretched your arms and back, shifting off Lisa's lap. You stretched your neck, hearing multiple clicks and pops before stretching your fingers out, hearing much of the same thing. You curled up into a ball, not too unlike the one you were previously in.
Your eyes, a dazzling (e/c), were dull and tamed. Tired from years of effort gone to waste. You sighed as you pulled up your hood to provide some sort of comfort. You shivered despite the warm atmosphere.
"Well then," you started, "I don't suppose you know how to travel worlds?"
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archivalofsins · 1 month
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Me at Kotoko's third interrogation question-
"Reading comprehension is piss poor."
Q.02 Can you speak any languages other than Japanese?
Kotoko: English. If just a simple conversation level counts, then also Chinese and Korean.
Boy howdy I wonder what she could be using simple conversation level Chinese and Korean for? It defintely can't be for what it says on the fucking tin.
Let's ask,
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Q.03 What is the reason you learned Chinese and Korean?
Kotoko: Chinese was simply because a lot of people spoke it. Korean was because I had learned taekwondo prior to that.
Oh at least we know Kazui was right and she does know taekwondo I guess.
20/07/09
Kotoko: Kazui, you do martial arts right. ……what type? Judo? Kazui: Ah, my main is…… judo, and kendo. I also know a little bit of karate. You must have some martial arts experience too, right, Yuzuriha-chan? I can tell by looking. Hmm… probably a combat type…… I’m guessing not karate…… is it taekwondo? Kotoko: ……I’m not telling you. Stop ogling me like that. It’s gross. Kazui: I-isn’t that a bit unfair?
But Gunsli shouldn't you be happy you're the one who brought up the whole Chinese and Korean being languages people training to be cops in Japan learn. Along with Taekwondo being a form of martial arts that could fall under other martial arts that one could learn to become an officer and Kotoko said she learned Taekwondo prior to beginning to study Korean. Which would align with-
Look I just want to know something new not get confirmation for things I could have and did just see with my own eyes. Far before this.
Then to make the situation worse English a language she admits to having a better grasp of than both Chinese and Korean just goes unquestioned. Like oh well knowing English is normal of course she would want to learn English. That's only reasonable. No, it's not. Even though English is taught in some schools within Japan it's about the same as most schools in the US teaching Spanish or schools in the UK teaching French.
Just because it's taught doesn't suddenly mean the populace has a fluent grasp of that language. So, I find it difficult to not be like why were Chinese and Korean singled out? When she knows a whole other ass language that is just as unnecessary in the area in which she resides?
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ClassTracks- How Many People Speak English in Japan?
World Population Review 2024
I really want that at any level part of the second image to sink in. Which means out of those estimated to speak English in Japan not all of them would be considered fluent in it or even at the same level Kotoko reports herself being at with Korean and Chinese.
So, why was English excluded from this question? Despite it being the language, she states she knows without any hesitance and better than the other two she's asked about here. Why the fuck were Chinese and Korean singled out exactly? Why did she learn English. Who knows that wasn't in the question so who cares honestly.
Not even going into this Nippon article that explains the English proficiency in Japan is on the decline. From December of 2023.
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So, pushing to the side that her answer when she was asked what languages she knew already implied she learned Chinese and Korean to speak to others. Why the fuck does she know English- Why not ask for clarity on all three languages she has stated knowing instead of singling out the other two. This question is so fucking weird. On top of not really telling us anything that we didn't already know or wasn't already heavily implied.
While somehow being incredibly iffy on top of that. Because asking about her learning these other two languages but not English implies that learning English is implicitly normal and should not be questioned. When it isn't and it never has been, especially when it is not the native language of the country one lives in.
Learning a language is expensive, difficult, and time consuming. Especially when it's not one that is actively used within one's environment. Her knowing English should not have gone unquestioned because it's a privilege to learn a language outside of one's native one. It's a privilege to have access to resources that allow you to do that. Especially taking into account literacy in general isn't that good globally.
Like I don't know what's not understood about this but being able to read in itself is a privilege. Being able to read a privilege what no everybody can- Here's the US statistics on that.
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On average, 79% of U.S. adults nationwide are literate in 2024. 21% of adults in the US are illiterate in 2024. 54% of adults have a literacy below a 6th-grade level (20% are below 5th-grade level). Low levels of literacy costs the US up to 2.2 trillion per year. 34% of adults lacking literacy proficiency were born outside the US. Massachusetts was the state with the highest rate of child literacy. New Mexico was the state with the lowest child literacy rate. New Hampshire was the state with the highest percentage of adults considered literate. The state with the lowest adult literacy rate was California.
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The National Literacy Institute
Illiteracy is a problem everywhere.
NHK World Japan Why linguists are worrying about literacy in Japan (2019)
For a plethora of reasons at that. So, of course I find it odd for one of these languages to just go unquestioned like that. Even as someone who only speaks English, I find that incredibly weird. Plus, as we've shown it's not exactly common to know English fluently in Japan either. It's not really common for people without a certain level of privilege or connections like family to teach them to know more than one language. Especially for a language as difficult and finnicky as English but that went unquestioned.
Like what the hell is up with this question. I can't even find a silver lining to this. This question is just... Well, it's a question that was asked, I guess.
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astroninaaa · 2 months
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when it comes to cellbit suing twitter and everything, having an existing defamation case he already won would be good to refer to if hes gonna sue sasa specifically for defamation in terms of evidencing, right? ill be honest i dont know a whole lot about legal strategy but i imagine taking her to court for both abuse and defamation is the goal and having a case in which its already been proven that the harassment has damaged his career could be really important because after that his team just has to draw a clear connection between the harassment and sasa. idk though im not a lawyer much less a brazilian lawyer lol, do you mind weighing in? what do you think the strategy is here?
this is SUCH a good question so like. yes but also no it depends on how they argue it and on the judge imo
if he wins the lawsuit against the twitter people and proves that the harassment was awful and everything that is suuuch a strong argument to use in a lawsuit against his ex. like see they’ve recognized that this harassment affected my life a lot and really negatively and you started it
however. she could argue that she never asked people to harass him, or that she only said his name a couple of times within all the accusations, and that’s,,,, true. like, she implied VERY HEAVILY that it was him and i think (hope) that that’s enough, buttt it can also depend on how good HER lawyer is.
there IS a very clear connection between her actions and the harassment, but there’s the matter of intent. she can say she was just venting online, that she never asked people to harass him, that she tried to keep from talking about it but people kept bringing it up etc etc.
i think he still has a very strong case of she implied VERY hard that it was him and even straight up said it was him (the SA accusation quoted a tweet that said his name directly), and how more than once she talked about how awful it was that people still supported him and how they should take her side (i was a cellbit follower back in 2017/2018 it was THE TRENCHES i remember it all). at the end of the day, any judge that actually looks at the entire situation would be able to tell that, well, her side of the story is kinda iffy. no proof, just words, bringing it up whenever he’s getting more traction than usual, coming up with new, worse accusations every time but never taking him to court. saying she doesn’t want to be related to it or to him anymore and yet bringing it up at every opportunity after seven years.
so yes i think winning the lawsuit against twitter/the twitter accounts is a VERY good precedent for when he sues sasa. there are good arguments she can make for herself, but i think, at the end of the day, that if he really shows up with all the proof of what she’s done and the damage it caused, the chances of her winning are less than likely.
unless, of course, she has a bunch of proof we don’t know about. but she’s “exposed” him thousands of times without ever showing any of it, so, personally, i sorta doubt it.
i hope this answered your question anon 🫶 GREAT question btw loved it that’s a very smart thing to point out
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tears-of-taelia · 3 months
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re: melia & emma
I've been thinking about this for awhile now. The way that the newest version of the Blacksteeple Castle chapter has presented Emma is interesting. There will be spoilers ahead, so don't read if you're still working your way through version 13.5!
My ramblings begin below. Here are some official pics (by the amazing Zumi) for reference.
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As we know, during the events of Blacksteeple Castle, Melia wore a disguise to hide her true identity. This disguise is removed when Madame X slashes it with her sword. There is a small animation that follows, where a dark magical aura envelopes “Emma” before she is revealed to be Melia.
After the subsequent chaos, the disguise is not brought up again. However, the character of Emma is revealed to still reside in Melia’s cognition, apparently unbeknownst to Melia, as she says, “I thought I left you behind at Blacksteeple”. How odd.
Then, (a long time) later, while exploring the 3rd Layer, Melia stumbles across a deathbed journal entry written by a Garufa Inc. volunteer named Emma. It reads as follows.
My name is Emma. I undertook the Archetype's power today, and it failed miserably. I was unable to manifest its power and was mortally wounded during a test. I thought I actually had potential... but I guess not. The doctors say I don't have long left. It's cruel, isn't it? Life is just so cruel. But this is the path me and all the other volunteers chose. Humanity has nothing left but us. ...Is it all worth it in the end, though? What do we want to survive for? ...Anyway. I'm losing energy fast. Garufa Incorporated is our last hope. Please, save us.
Melia expresses to Nim that she finds it odd that this person and her Blacksteeple cover share a name. Nim passes this off as a coincidence, and understandably so. Emma isn’t exactly a rare name (though perhaps things are different in the world of rejuvenation?). The coincidence still seems to bother Melia for some reason.
Now, there are a LOT of theories about Melia out there. Despite hours and hours of gameplay, her true identity has yet to be revealed.
People have theorized for years that she is Maria, and the game seems to heavily imply that that is the case. If Anathea had four children, Erin, Maria, Alice, and Allen, and Erin, Melia, Alice, and Allen know that they share a mother, Anathea, then it would logically follow that Melia is Maria. In addition, Melia and Maria physically resemble each other, Melia is unsure of her origins prior to meeting Jenner, and Maria has not otherwise made an appearance in the current timeline (besides the whole Marianette ordeal in Gearen Sewers). So, it’s not exactly a dramatic leap.
It is eventually even addressed by the characters themselves.  When Erin directly asks for her opinion on this matter, Melia balks, and seemingly contradicts herself.
MELIA: Hahah... I guess I've known for a long time that I was Maria. Ever since our interaction with Angie, that name has been going through my head in my dreams. But I have to disagree, Erin. I am not Maria. ERIN: But out of the process of elimination, you must be. MELIA: Sorry, but it's true. That's what my mind is telling me, desperately. I am not Maria. I am not Maria. That's what echoes in my head.
If Melia is and is not Maria, then… how…? In what way? Who is she? Why would she share a connection with Erin? Why is she the only one with Genesis Syndrome? And what does Emma have to do with all of this? I don’t really have an answer. But there is something I want to muse on.
Let’s circle back to Melia’s “disguise”, if we can even call it that. Her cover as Emma made her look like an entirely different person, unrecognizable to the Player character. She has a different outfit, hair color, and eye color. If we are to believe that this is an ordinary disguise, we would need to believe that, with one slash, Madame X was able to tear through a wig, two color contacts, and an entire outfit, including thigh high boots. We would need to believe that Melia conveniently decided to wear a different outfit underneath this disguise, and that Madame X was able to slash off her exterior outfit without marring the one underneath. We would also need to believe that the special, dark, magical animation the occurs at this moment was purely aesthetic and meaningless.
So, yeah, I don’t really believe it this disguise is your regular, run-of-the-mill costume.
We learn that Melia was sent to Blacksteeple through the powers of Spacea and Tiempa. She was on a mission as a Storm Chaser, to save the Player character and gather information. As we know (all too well) from V13.5, Spacea and Tiempa are powerful. Specifically, they have powers over space and time akin to Palkia and Dialga. They use these powers pretty recklessly to manipulate many characters throughout the story. However, every instance of power they exhibit is strictly tied to their dimensions, space and time. Spacea does magic related to space. Tiempa does magic related to time. So, how, then, would they be able to create such a magical disguise for Melia? Through Garufan dress-up magic? Creating an illusion? Maybe. I wouldn’t be shocked. But I think it’s more than that. I think that Spacea and Tiempa used their magic to revive a version of Melia from the past, a different dimension, or a different “layer” (past world?). Perhaps… the third layer. A different appearance. A different life. Emma.
I think of it sort of like what happened with Narcissa during the Dufaux sidequest. But, instead of S+T directly swapping Melia with Emma, they just projected the appearance of Emma onto Melia.
There isn’t much to support or detract from this speculation. What we do know? We know that Melia is and is not Maria. We know that both Melia and Emma struggle to manifest the Archetype's power. We know that Emma resides in Melia’s cognition, like Melanie. We know Melia was deeply bothered by Emma’s journal entry in the Third Layer. We know that the outfit Melia dons when using her powers is very reminiscent of Emma’s.
We also know that Emma is dead.
Or, at least, presumed dead.
Just like Aevis, Aevia, Aria, Axel, Aero, and Alain.
You see where I’m going with this?
We know Emma dies disappointed, having believed she had “potential”, according to her journal entry. Did someone else think she had potential too? Perhaps, her “majesty” herself?
I know I’m not the only one to theorize that Melia is another Interceptor. I mean, it is heavily implied throughout the story. Melia is one of two characters for which we have seen Variya appear. The other, of course, being the player character. Melia is able to enter Zeight. In fact, she enters her own Zeight a couple of points during the game. She is shown with the triangular core motif a couple of times as well. She has led a lot of the research about the Interceptor phenomenon, in the Blakeory Athenaeum, for example.
How this all ties in with Maria, though? I don’t know. In the case of the Player character, we know that A-team didn’t want to live, and agreed to let Variya choose a different soul to take control over their body. Presumably, that soul is us, literally, the player, the person playing the game. Could Maria be the soul taking over Emma? Could Emma be the soul taking over Maria?
Who knows.
I do know there are holes in these theories. I know the events of the Renegade Route may complicate everything. (truthfully, I am too much of a wuss to complete the renegade route myself. I watched a youtube video of someone else's playthrough, so I know the broad strokes of what happens, but I definitely don't know the renegade lore in the same way I know paragon. maybe I should rewatch it at some point and take notes)
But this has been bouncing around my brain for too long and I wanted to put it in writing to help organize my thoughts. If you made it this far, wow, you rock! Thanks for reading. I’m interested if anyone has thoughts about this, if anyone can potentially disprove it, or if anyone has their own version or counter version of this idea! I live for this shit.
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kelp-my-beloved · 1 year
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What the hell is going on with False
[EDIT: This is no longer up to date, and has insted been suplanted by this post]
As the title says, I'm trying to get to the bottom of False's lore. I divided all my questions into ten points that I think sumarises the mistery in a satisfactory way.
This is also 90% so I can have some sort of structure when making any theory. If you notice something missing or want to add literally anything, feel free to let me know or make your own adition
So, first of all. In my opinion, for a theory to be strong, it has to answer at least most of the ten main questions:
Dead Guy's Clothes: This one is about that corpse e!False found in episode three and stole their clothes. Besides them, in the pile there was also bones and raw beef. Where did they come from? Why are they dead?
Those Weird Signs: Here's a post with all the signs. Who put them there? What do they mean?
Pumpkin Jack: Our favourite suspicious pumpkin. He was seen outside of Goblan, too, and appeared to False for the first time in episode 4. On episode 9 False put him in jail for Scary Crimes, and on episode 10 he was found being murdered. He was put in a field, where he stayed, and on episode 12 he got Buff after eating his vegetables. Sausage also claims to have seen many like them before, and one appeared outside Gobland. Plus, at the beggining of JoeHills hermitcraft s9e40, we see him wake up in the Tumble Town Water Thing in the bridge, no memories of how he got there, a sign saying beware of the pumpkin, three pumpkins stew, various pumpkin seeds, and saw a giant carved pumpkin at the end of the bridge. Wether or not it's connected is up to your interpretation.
e!False Murders: What the hell False. She killed Pixlriffs with an amnesia potion, and is heavily implied she did the same to Jevin (she threw an amnesia potion at him while he stayed in her room, after which he woke up on a different place and no memory of the fact. On False's video, we also see the same room filled with redstone/blood. This clip is shown before the one where she invites Jevin to stay, and the next morning False can't find Jevin, and tells herself he must have left on his own. Wheter this is an unreliable narrator stuff or the blood is somebody else's is unclear. Also, it's important to note that Jevin is literally a blue piece of slime. Wether this implies that it can't be Jevin's blood or that it's hard to recreate a murder scene in minecraft is unclear). False is also shown placing a sign on the hermit area to invite them to stay at her tavern, and it's implied that that's why Jevin went to stay there
h!False and e!False: Funky Lore Stuff. h!False knew of e!False, but e!False seems to not know about h!False. h!False called the other one dangerous, and is spying on her to make sure she isn't doing anything bad. e!False had a flashback at some point, where a False is shown looking at the camera, talking about wheter or not something worked, and that she had never wiped someone's memory before. There's also the fact that while e!False is having "brain glitches", a high static/electricity noise can be heard, and after them the sound of a clock ticking.
Gathered Resources: Now and then, resources that e!False's need appear out of nowhere. In one ocassion, they were placed in chests with a sign that said "you're welcome". They were the resources needed to build the ship she had dreamnt about.
Glitch/Flashback/Vision: There was a post that tumblr will not let me find that disected the clip beautifully. Point is, we see a False looking at the camera, claiming that she has never wiped anybody's memory before so she's not sure if it worked. See 5 for more details. Ep 14 had a whole cake of vision's lore, in which we see a False captured in a cage, working behind a desk somewhere, and observing someone in a cage. For more details see the wiki
Rift and Tower shock: Whenever a False is near something she shouldnt be, she gets shocked, even if the material can't carry electricity (eg wood). This happened to e!False when she tried to check on h!False's spy tower, and to h!False when she tried to get near the rift over at hermitcraft before the travel happened.
Where did e!False come from?: This one is probably very related to (5). At the begining of the season, we see what she described as "home" being a small room with a bed and nightstand, with windows we can'tsee through, and an iron door that she uses at the end of the clip to get out, though it's barely shown. Whether or not this is a holding cell depends on how much you want to stretch it. This also has to do with how she appeared in empires. Once again, ep 14 has a whole cake of lore. For vague details see 7, for extended ones visit the wiki
Memory potions: Who made them? How long did False had them? Did she only use them on Jevin and Pix? What are they for? See: JoeHills ep40, detailed in point 3. Also, both of them had recently been on an ancient city, and is shown on Pix's video that he is missing his Lore Compass, though the reason why Jevin went to stay at Cogsmead was a sign inviting any hermit in their area. On ep 14, e!False comments that maybe she should make some sleeping potions for her bad dreams, instead of the 'kind she's been making'.
Also, credits to @maple-cloak and @moth-ed-man for pointing out a few details I missed! I added them after posting
New note: Im updating this post as new information comes, but there's a limit of what i can reasonable put in it. If I dont cover something completely, I'll put where one can get the full picture besides watching False's whole season.
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zeciex · 6 months
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A Vow of Blood - 23
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Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….
Chapter 23: A Woman's Shame
AO3 - Masterlist
(TW: Attempted Rape)
In the following days, Daenera kept herself occupied, intentionally avoiding encounters with Aemond. The incident in the throne room had been impulsive and risky, a dangerous game of passion that could have exposed them both. 
However, it seemed that luck was on their side, as no rumors or whispers reached her ears through the usual channels. Tris Caswell’s gatherings of gossiping ladies, the conversation among the servants, and even Joyce, who was always well-informed, remained oblivious to the incident. 
Daenera couldn’t shake off the caution and unease the weight upon her. It had been a foolish thing to do. And the feeling only intensified when Joyce made a disapproving sound when she had brewed herself more moontea. No words were exchanged, but the unspoken judgment lingered heavily in the air. 
Searching for her misplaced notebook, Daenera entered one of the sitting rooms within the Keep, where she had joined Tris for tea the day before. The room was adorned with carved furniture, elegant tapestries, and a collection of books. She scanned the space meticulously, hoping to find her precious notebook that contained her poultice recipes.
“Did you enjoy your ride on a dragon?” Aegon’s voice grated on Daenera’s ears, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. She turned to look at him, finding him leaning against the table with a cup of wine in hand. The first buttons of his doublet were unfastened, and one was even missing. From his disheveled appearance, she presumed he was already deep in his cups. 
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion coloring her gaze as she tried to discern his intentions. “It was kind of your brother to fly me back to the Dragonpit.”
Aegon’s mischievous smile only grew wider, his amusement evident as if he held the upper hand, privy to all her secrets and desires. It made her skin prickle. It wasn’t the same as his brother’s smile; it felt more akin to a boy setting fire to a cat just to watch it burn.
“He did little more than fly you back, did he not?” The accusation hung between them. 
“I do not like what you’re implying,” Daenera said dryly. 
He responded with an upside-down smile, shaking his head and shrugging nonchalantly. “Am I wrong?”
“I am not in the mood for your theatrics, Aegon,” Daenera retorted coolly, dismissing him by turning around and focusing her gaze on the floor, hoping to conjure the presence of her book so that she may leave. 
“They say the first time riding a dragon it is like mounting the world,” Aegon continued, undeterred by the sharp glare Daenera shot his way. “Did it feel like mounting the world to you?”
“It felt windy,” Daenera replied, choosing to feign ignorance of the underlying meaning behind his words. 
Aegon laughed. “I will be sure to tell him that.”
“What do you want, Aegon?” Daenera cut to the chase, not wanting to prolong this conversation any further. 
“Well, I want you to answer my questions, of course…” Aegon pushed himself off the table and made his way to the other end where Daenera stood, his head tilting curiously. “Was that your first time?”
“No, I’ve ridden with my mother on Syrax before,” Daenera lied, attempting to deflect his torying. Aegon exuded the scent of wine and sweat, his hair hanging limply and greasy around his face. He looked tired, she observed, and dangerously bored. 
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Your insinuation is insulting and preposterous.”
“Not as preposterous, I presume, as it is for you to think that no one has noticed,” Aegon retorted, leaning in closer to her and sniffing as if he were some dog. Daenera instinctively leaned away, ready to shove him away by the face. Aegon straightened up again, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Definitely spoiled.”
Daenera grimaced and snarled, her disdain evident. “You’re disgusting.”
“I admit, I am insulted that you chose my unskilled brother above me,” Aegon said, his voice dipping low. 
“Does it really surprise you that someone would choose anyone above you?” Daenera shot back, her annoyance seeping into her words. “No woman in her right mind would choose to lay with you. No one knows where you’ve been and what disease you could have caught.”
“So you admit it?” Aegon’s voice carried a dangerous edge. 
Daenera glared at him with exasperation. “I have nothing to admit to. I am unspoiled.”
Aegon leaned closer, his eyes glinting with provocation. “How long do you think it will take for people to notice? I mean, it’s not far-fetched for two Targaryens… Well, a Targaryen and a dragonseed, to be found in inappropriate circumstances.”
“It does not interest me to feed into your conjecture, uncle,” Daenera retorted, her voice tinged with warning. “And I suggest you keep your imaginings to yourself, should you find yourself in worse circumstances. 
Her threat hung heavy in the air, a clear indication that she would make him regret his words if he continued down this path. But Aegon had never been good at listening to warnings. 
“There’s an easy way to prove you are right,” Aegon taunted, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of his wine. “I promise to be gentle… or rough, if that is what you enjoy. I won’t judge.”
“I am not bedding you or anyone else,” Daenera stated firmly, her cheeks flushing with indignation and shame. She despised the way Aegon looked at her, with seductive eyes and a cruel amusement burning within them. 
“I won’t tell my brother if that’s what concerns you,” Aegon added, his tone oozing with smugness. “I can keep a secret.”
He could not. Given the chance, he would exploit any vulnerability and delight in causing torment. Aegon had a talent for it, and would persistently probe at a wound until it bled, relishing in the suffering he inflicted. 
“What concerns me is your level of delusion. What makes you think I’d ever agree to lay with you?” Daenera scoffed at him. “I wouldn’t come close to your disease-ridden, shriveled up cock with a ten-foot pole.”
A muscle twitched in Aegon’s right eye, his anger barely contained. “You know, it’s so easy to ruin a girl's reputation…”
“No one would believe you,” Daenera shot back, her words sharp and insulting. “That’s what happens when you’re a disappointment to the family. Your mother is the only thing that holds any semblance of your reputation and respectability together.”
Aegon’s gaze fixated on a spot on the floor, his eyes growing distant as his expression seemed to darken. “Hm…”
Daenera took his silence as the end of the conversation and turned, but as she attempted to walk away, Aegon grabbed her wrist painfully. Without warning, he slammed her against the table with a jarring impact, the sharp edge digging into her hips. The suddenness of the atack left her breathless and disoriented, and she slammed her hands down on the table, trying to stabilize herself. 
His hand gripped around the nape of her neck, holding her in a vice-like grip.
Daenera’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and anger flooding her veins. She struggled against his hold, trying to free herself from his iron grip, but Aegon was unrelenting. 
The weight of Aegon’s body pressed down on her, trapping her beneath him against the unforgiving table. The treat in his voice sent shivers down her spine. 
“Since you believe me a monster, I might as well prove you right. My reputation can hardly get any worse, yours however…”
“Aegon, stop this at once!” Daenera’s voice trembled with desperation and fear. She swallowed thickly, trying to regain her composure.
“Oh, my dear niece, I relish the challenge,” Aegon hissed into her ear, tightening his grip on her neck. “You will do best to keep this a secret, unless you’re willing to ruin your own reputation.”
Daenera’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Aegon persisted in his disturbing pursuit of the truth. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she desperately fought against his overpowering hold. Her nails scraped against the table, her attempts to break free growing increasingly desperate. 
The sheer terror coursing through her veins made it difficult to find her voice, but she managed to muster enough strength to cry out, “Aegon, please! Stop this!”
“I simply wish to know if you’ve fucked my brother,” Aegon persisted, seemingly impervious to her pleas. “And since you refuse to disclose the truth, I shall uncover it on my own.”
Daenera’s entire body trembled as she kicked her legs and thrashed against his grip, her primal instinct for self-perseveration taking over. 
The air grew thick with fear and tension as Aegon hitched up her skirts, his actions invading her personal space. Daenera fought back with every ounce of strength she possessed, her breaths coming in rapid bursts. She continued to implore him to release her, her voice trembling with a mixture of panic and anger. 
Dread filled her body as Aegon’s hand grazed the skin of her inner thigh, the touch sending an icy shiver of revulsion through her. Her attempts to reach for the small dagger hidden in her skirt proved futile as she remained trapped against the table, the edge digging into her hips with bruising force. Tears pricked in her eyes, lungs raw with panic. The pain intensified as Aegon’s grip on the back of her neck tightened, causing her head to throb with each forceful push downwards towards the table top. 
“Stop, Aegon!” She cried out, the desperation she felt evident in her voice. She despised how weak she sounded. 
“I only aim to prove that you are as much of a whore as your mother.” Aegon’s laughter only fueled her fury, his words slicing through her like a blade. His hand slid higher, grabbing at the flesh of her inner thigh, pinching at it. 
The revulsion surged within her, coiling in the pit of her stomach. The back of her throat throbbed from the force with which she suppressed her tears, her lashes sticking together as pearls of water clung to them. Daenera’s trembling lips were pressed tightly together, her teeth biting down hard to stifle herself. 
Closing her eyes, Daenera uttered a desperate prayer to whatever higher power might be listening, hoping for deliverance from this moment. And, in that moment, whatever it was, the gods or some mysterious force, her pleas were answered. 
Suddenly, Aegon was gone, leaving Daenera trembling and exposed. The reason he had touched felt cold and violated, and Daenera hastily adjusted her skirts, trying to regain a semblance of dignity. Though he hadn’t gone further, the violation she felt lingered, staining her soul with a sense of dirtiness and wrongness. 
“Have you lost your damned mind?” Aemond spat at his brother, his voice dripping with anger as he hurled him across the room. Aegon crashed into a heavy cabinet before falling to the ground, groaning in pain. 
“Ah, fuck…” Aegon moaned, clutching his side and rolling on the floor. He glanced up at his brother, a mixture of pain and amusement in his eyes. “We were just having a bit of fun, brother.”
“A bit of fun?” Aemond’s voice echoed with barely contained fury. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, the urge to unleash his wrath evident. “Do you even comprehend the consequences if anyone else had caught you?”
Daenera retrieved the dagger from her skirts, her ears ringing with shock and the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. Her head pounded and she still felt Aegon’s touch on her skin. Without fully processing Aemond’s words, she instinctively moved towards Aegon, fully intent on punishing him. 
“Oh, ooh!” Aegon exclaimed with maniacal amusement, pointing at Daenera and her dagger.
Aemond swiftly stepped in front of her, blocking her path to Aegon. His face was etched with a stern and resolute expression, while Daenera’s eyes burned with a vindictive fury. He had laid his hands on her, and she was determined to make him pay dearly. 
“Step aside,” she demanded, her grip on the dagger tightening. 
“I can’t,” Aemond answered firmly, his resolve unwavering, unable to let his brother come to harm, no matter how much he might deserve it. 
“I will have his damned cock for this,” Daenera growled, her grip on the dagger tightening with enough force to turn her knuckles white. She was determined to make him pay, starting with cutting off his cock before shoving it so far up his corrupted ass that he could taste the consequences of his own debauchery. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t choke on it. Or maybe he would. She was willing to find out. 
Aegon laughed from the floor, lying back down as if completely unconcerned by her fury. Of course, why would he be concerned when he could hide behind his brother for protection?
“And I was just about to give it to you, sweet niece,” Aegon taunted, his words dripping with sarcasm, “when my dear brother so rudely interrupted us.”
“Shut up, Aegon,” Aemond hissed, his voice laced with warning, silently urging his brother to keep quiet and allow him to rectify the mess he had created.
“Move, Aemond,” Daenera demanded once again, her voice barely containing her rage. Aegon couldn’t simply get away with laying his hands on her. He might be a prince, but she wasn’t just some common born servant, she was a princess. 
“My brother is a drunken fool,” Aemond declared, his voice carrying a practiced coldness. 
Daenera felt a surge of frustration and helplessness wash over her. Aemond’s words were like a cold, hard slap to the face, a reminder of where his loyalties lied. Aemond would remain between them, an obstacle on the path of seeking justice. The realization settled heavily in her chest, a mix of both anger and disappointment. 
“I bid you forgive him. He is blinded by wine and devoid of any sense, it seems,” Aemond elaborated, the lie hanging in the air between them.  
“Yes, forgive my insolence, princess. I am a drunken fool,” Aegon cackled from the floor, his mocking tone doing nothing to alleviate the princess's seething anger. 
“He doesn’t deserve your protection,” Daenera retorted, her gaze fixed solely on Aemond. 
“He is my brother,” Aemond replied firmly, unforgivingly. “He bears the title of a prince, he’s the son of the King. It would be preferable if he behaved in a manner befitting this position,” Aemond sneered back at his brother, then turned his eye back to Daenera before continuing, “But that does not alter the situation. You cannot take justice into your own hands.”  “What will you have me do then?” Daenera challenged, her voice filled with frustration. “Should I bring it to your mother’s attention? She would protect him as you are.”
Aegon scoffed, pushing himself to sit against the bookshelf. 
“Or should I bring it to the King?” Daenera threatened, knowing that Viserys, at the very least, would take her accusation seriously and perhaps even take action. If Viserys held enough sentiment for his son not to behead him immediately, he would surely send him to the Wall. Yet, even then, Viserys might succumb to the influence of Queen Alicent, who would do anything to evade justice. 
“You and I both know that nothing would come of it,” Aemond replied, her tone casual, as if going through the motions. “Continuing on this path would be ill-advised. If you become subject to unfavorable gossip, it may hinder your chances of securing a suitable husband. Ser Aran Blackwood could potentially be an option then, or perhaps a life dedicated to the Faith would be more fitting for you.”
This was the moment she had been waiting for ever since he took her maidenhead. He had finally resorted to using his power against her, threatening to destroy any potential future she could have. 
Daenera’s mind raced, contemplating her next move. The temptation to defy Aemond’s warning was strong, to reach out to her mother, to Daemon, and seek their support in seeking justice. But Aemond’s words lingered in her mind, warning her of the potential damage it could cause to her own reputation. 
“If I fall, I will take you down with me,” Daenera sneered through gritted teeth, her words venomous. She forcefully slid the dagger into the folds of her skirt, its presence no longer a comfort but a reminder of her powerlessness. Without sparing Aegon a second glance, she pivoted on her heels.
Aegon’s taunting jeering came to an abrupt halt as Aemond delivered a swift kick to silence him. The sound of a groan echoed through the room, momentarily breaking the tense atmosphere. 
Queen Alicent’s entrance only added to the spectacle, her concerned frown highlighting the unsettling scene before her. 
Daenera’s eyes, red-rimmed and filled with fury and judgment, met Queen Alicent’s gaze with a piercing intensity. 
“Teach your son the meaning of no,” Daenera declared, voice dripping with disdain. 
With that final statement, she turned on her heels, the rustle of her skirts marking her departure from the scene. Anger and weariness coursed through her veins as she retreated.
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Frustration twisted Aemond’s features as he swiftly sidestepped to evade Aegon’s grasp on his boots. He resented the fact he had to protect his foolish brother but it was his duty. He couldn’t allow Daenera to carry out her revenge, no matter how justified they may have seemed. Aegon was his brother, and he had the responsibility to shield him from harm. His actions protected not only Aegon but also their mother, Helaena, and the twins. 
However, Aemond’s restraint only held so long, and his anger towards his brother boiled within his chest, threatening to consume any remaining patience he had left. 
Had he not warned Aegon of the consequences? How could his brother be so stupid?! Did he not understand that it wasn’t just his life he risked?
The door swung shut behind their mother, her sharp gaze dissecting the scene before her. A wave of disapproval radiated from her as she moved swiftly across the floor, her eyes narrowed with anger and concern. 
“What is this?” Alicent demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. Her eyes flickered accusingly between her two sons. 
Aegon ran a hand through his tousled hair, a feeble attempt to appear somewhat repentant. His face held a childlike sheepishness, a pitiful facade he hoped would appease his mother. Aemond remained still, his face carved in stone. 
“We were only having a bit of fun, mother,” Aegon offered in a weak attempt to downplay the severity of the situation. He shot this brother a pointed look, silently try to compel his cooperation. The unspoken demand hung heavily in the air. 
“Aemond?” Alicent demanded. 
Aemond’s gaze shifted back to Alicent, his expression remaining stoic and indifferent despite the torrent of emotions raging within him. There were countless truths he could have revealed in that moment. He could have exposed Aegon’s shameful actions, how he had pinned down and assaulted Daenera. The mere thought tightened around his stomach like a fist. He could have divulged how Aegon, as the first born and the future King of Westeros, was single-handedly unraveling all of their efforts and ambitions. 
Yet, he chose not to speak those truths. 
“We were only having fun,” Aemond repeated, his tone steady and controlled, concealing the anger bubbling beneath the surface. 
Aegon pushed himself up from the ground, slapping Aemond on the shoulder in a display of feigned affection. The tension in the room grew palpable as Alicent refused to accept their explanation at face value. She seized Aegon’s face, her fingers digging into the flesh of his cheeks, forcing him to purse his lips in an ugly grimace. Her eyes bore into his, searching for the truth she knew he was withholding. 
“Tell me the truth of it,” Alicent demanded, her voice edged with accusation.
Aegon attempted to wave his mother’s hand away, trying to dismiss her probing gaze. “Why must you always assume I am lying?”
“Because I know you,” Alicent responded firmly, her grip tightening. “And I am no fool. The princess left in a wretched state, and if you do not confess the truth, I will have no choice but to assume the worst.”
Aemond clenched his jaw as he watched his brother squirm in their mothers grasp. Aegon finally managed to free himself, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek to alleviate the pain. It was a small price to pay.
“I was only jesting,” Aegon claimed, his words laced with a veneer of nonchalance. “I merely wanted to ascertain whether she followed in her mother’s footsteps.”
Aemond remained the pillar of restraint and control, gritting his teeth as he witnessed the unfolding scene. Alicent, on the other hand, struggled to contain her fury. She had firsthand knowledge of Aegon’s capacity for reckless behavior. It was only days ago that she had to dismiss a servant girl due to his inappropriate advances. But what he had done now was far more dangerous than mere misconduct with a servant. It could have dire consequences for their family, for everything she had sacrificed for. 
In a swift motion, Alicent slapped Aegon across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Her actions conveyed her disbelief and the gravity of the situation. What if their actions reached the ears of the King? Rhaenyra and Daemon would surely call for their heads. 
Aegon winched, his hand instinctively moving to his reddened cheek, his eyes wide and wet. He looked like a child then. 
“Do you have any inkling of the peril you’ve put us in?” Alicent hissed, her fury burning in her eyes and her teeth bared. Unable to stand still, she paced the floor, her anger palpable. “Do you hold so little regard for our lives? Are you truly willing to squander everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve sacrificed for! What if she goes to the King?”
“She won’t,” Aemond interjected, his voice steady and reassuring. 
The contrast between her two sons was stark and undeniable. One embodied everything Alicent needed him to be–the protector, the dutiful son, the dedicated soclar. Aemond was honorable, courageous, and everything she wished Aegon could become. Aegon, her firstborn and the one who should inherit his father’s throne, had become her greatest disappointment and vulnerability. She longed for him to rise above his reckless impulses and understand the purpose she had dedicated years to. After all, it was to protect him that she was doing this. 
Life had never been fair, and this situation served as a bitter reminder of the fact. 
“How can you be so certain?” Alicent questioned sharply. 
“He’s sleeping with her,” Aegon interjected, a twisted grimace marring his face. He couldn’t help but drag his brother down on his level, to tarnish his reputation. 
Aemond, however, dismissed his brother’s claim with a wave of his hand, choosing not to acknowledge it. “She knows it would be her word against his. And I advise you, brother, to keep your imaginings to yourself. Spreading lies would only further complicate matters.”
“It is not a lie,” Aegon insisted, meeting his mother’s gaze with defiance. 
Alicent fixed him with a stern look. “Listen to your brother, Aegon. You are already in enough trouble. Do not besmirch your brother’s honor with baseless accusations.”
Aegon’s jaw worked as realized that his mother would not believe him, and he fixed his gaze on the floor. 
“You bring shame upon our family, and I will not tolerate it, especially while the princess is here,” Alicent continued, her tone laced with frustration. “She is already causing enough trouble with her political machinations, rallying support for her mother’s claim and interfering with governance of the kingdom. I will not have my son contributing to the chaos.”
Aegon sneered, a vindictive thought seeming to cross his mind. “Ruining her honor would serve as a fitting consequence. It would send her back to Dragonstone in shame, and perhaps she would remain unwed for a very long time as well.”
“And you believe that ruining your brother’s honor is worth such consequences? Ruining your own in the process? Where is the sense, Aegon?” Alicent’s voice rang out with scorn and disappointment. 
Despite Aegon’s troublesome reputation, she had always shielded him from the worst of it, hoping he would come to realize the efforts she had made on his behalf.
“It was merely a passing thought, mother,” Aegonr replied, casually picking at his nails. “Or perhaps you should consider marrying Aemond to Daenera.”
Aemond’s eye snapped to his brother with a piercing glare. Marry the bastard? The notion seemed absurd. They were too incompatible, destined to clash and bring each other misery. He only wanted to use her, ruin her. 
“Aemond has spent time with the princess, hasn’t he, brother?” Aegon continued, refusing to let go of his insinuation. “You took her riding on Vhagar.”
Aemond’s indignation burned within his chest as he met his brother's goading expression with an steely resolve. “The princess lost her horse. I didn’t want to leave her stranded in the middle of a field and have her walk back to King’s Landing.”
Alicent frowned. “Where was her servant?”
Aemond gave a half-hearted shrug, not caring to elaborate on what had happened. 
“You’ve been staring at her,” Aegon persisted like the child he was, trying to get his brother into trouble.
“Would you have me pluck out my remaining eye?” Aemond drawled with little care to his brother's answer. 
“I would gladly assist you with that, brother.”
“Enough,” Alicent interected, rubbing her temples in frustration. “There will be no mutilations, and there will be no marriages. Put these thoughts out of your minds.”
25 notes · View notes
moonmeg · 6 months
Text
Guess what ship has consumed my life atm again. Not my favorite work but have it anyway ✨️
Someone I can trust
"You look a lot like yer father. Talk about family resemblance."
The words felt like a slap to his face. His eyes grew wider, his body tensed. Suddenly he was wide awake with the endless of thoughts rushing in.
"Ah, that's uhm... Fergus is not my father actually.", he informed her.
The regret in her face set in quickly. She straightened her back, unwrapped her arms from her knees. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel the need to say that?
"I'm sorry, I just assumed-"
"No, no, it's alright!", Neil assured her, trying his best at a smile, "you couldn't have known."
Breena turned away ashamed. Great. Of course she'd mess up with him too. She hid her face behind her red hair, purposely letting it fall over it. She just wanted to sink and disappear into the ground beneath her.
"You aren't exactly wrong either! He is my step father! Just not my biological one."
He kept trying assuring her. He could've phrased his first sentence after her remark better, he found. Now he had to shake Breena out of her embarrassment somehow.
"Breena, it's alright, really. Ye couldn't have known that. Ye saw pictures of a man next to my mother and nobody of us treats him any differently than children would treat their father! And granted, he does have similarities to my siblings and me. Ye definitely could think we're his."
She glanced at him through the strands of hair covering her face. He was smiling at her. He always was. Not only at her. It's who Neil was. But this time, when she examined his eyes a little more, they seemed... duller. Usually they were bright, warm and vibrant. Rays of sunlight only enhanced that trait. Over the months that she spent with him, gold had become her favorite color. Despite the setting sun shining on him, the vibrancy of his golden iris seemed less. She knew hurt when she saw it - she had become a master at reading eyes. His lips were smiling but his eyes were telling her that her remark of him looking like his father - as she implied his biological one - hurt him.
"I'm sorry", she said quietly.
"You dinna have to be."
"It clearly upset ye I said that. Eyes dinna lie."
Neil rubbed his neck. He turned to the side and stared at the grass around him. He was out of options. What does he say now? Clearly he can't lie around her. His eyes would give him away. He could start again with "It's alright, ye couldn't have known". That didn't help him earlier though and it was doubtful repeating himself a third time would do the trick. He thought about it, exhaling through his nose heavily. This was not what he wanted the conversation to end with but every possible approach he came up with and played through in his head made the situation worse.
Breena watched him silently.
She leaned her head down to her knees and picked a flower growing near the fence. The small white petals rapidly turned blue, then black. She twirled it in her fingers. One direction. The opposite direction. Picking the petals. Battling the urge to ask for details. She couldn't upset him more than she has already. Especially not since she knew how difficult it could be to talk about an imperfect family. Unfortunately, curiosity was a force too great to deny even the attempt. Ideas entered her mind. She could ask him about it, that doesn't mean he has to answer. If he brushed her off and rather not talk about it, she'd not push further and simply switch topics quickly or actually draw an invisibility spell and never undo it again - either will do.
"Is it alright to ask what happened?"
Breena yelped and quickly jerked her head up from her knees, startled she actually said that out loud. She covered her mouth in immediate regret. What was she thinking? Why did she do that? Trying to take it back and safe herself from seeming absolutely insensitive, she turned in his direction, hands up defensively, panic in her face.
"Ye dinna have to-"
"He left."
It came out of his mouth plump and direct. Neil fidgeted with his fingers. He was almost indifferent on this.
Almost.
"After Ian's birth my mother and he started havin' frequent fights. They've had those before too but it got worse then. I actually dinna remember much, nor did I ever ask my mother or older siblings about it. I only ken he started drinking. To numb out his frustration probably because he was too incapable to settle issues in his marriage like a normal person. Only he was the type of person that shouldna drink. It made him aggressive. Violent."
"Oh Titan, did he-"
"He never raised a hand against my siblings or me nor against our mother. He did break things or punch holes into the walls. And then he left and never bothered to reach out again."
Breena took the information in. She stared at him. She didn't expect him to say anything on that matter. Judging by his reaction earlier she thought he was in the same situation as her: still processing, still healing. Neil looked into the distance, one arm resting on his angled leg, the other supporting his weight on the ground. He wasn't focusing on anything, his mouth neither frown nor smile. It seemed like he didn't care much. He was exceptionally calm about this. There was anger in his brows and the way he talked about that man. Resentment for having failed as husband and father. He didn't just pretend to not care - he actually didn't have many thoughts to spend on his biological father.
It left Breena thinking...
"When?"
"I was around 5 years old. I barely remember anything about him. To me he has no face, no voice. Most of what I just told ye is actually what Edan and Blair* told me. And honestly, if that's what he was like, I'm glad I have no memory of him."
"I'm sorry."
"This is the third time ye're apologising for something ye had no influence over.", he glanced at her with a cocked eyebrow and an amused smile.
"I'm sor-", she stopped herself from speaking the last syllable. She cleared her throat with a single grunt before starting over :"It must've been difficult for ye."
"Not really. After he left, things got better. And it didna take long for Fergus to become part of our lives instead.", Neil shrugged. The smile that tugged on his lips after Breena's self cut-off apology grew wider. As if infected with his smile Breena smiled too. She didn't notice she did. It wasn't in her control.
"He's a nice fellow. I like his creative cussing. It's almost art."
He snorted, then laughed. She was right. It was a trait of his step father to not cuss when the younger two children were around and even with the older ones Fergus never actually exclaimed the swears and instead changed it into something fit for children's ears. And those were indeed almost an art form in themselves. They were terrible and barely ever made sense but they had Neil and his siblings, especially Ian, laughing every time. Breena chuckled herself. When she turned to look at the brunette laughing into his knees she felt... proud? She made him laugh. Usually their roles were reversed but now she was the one to lighten his mood again (after having pulled it down just minutes before). His laugh was well contagious and somehow it was a sound she instantly adored. It's not the first time she heard him laugh but it was the first time he laughed full-heartedly because of her. She'd gladly keep that sound and sight in her life for ever. When Neil laughed, she automatically laughed with him.
"And from what I've seen and heard he loves you all deeply. Ye're all definitely his children to him.", Breena added. Her proud smile turned sweet. She knew Neil would love to hear that. He probably already knew but a reminder never hurts, she thought.
"I mean, Keith and Maisie actually are-", he calmed his laugh and caught her rolling eyes at him, "-but I get what ya mean. He's our father to us too. I just... I'm an idiot who can't think before he speaks.", he scratched his cheek nervously as he remembered how his answer to Breena's remark could have been phrased better. Had it been, this conversation would've gone a little lighter.
"I'm sorry I made ye feel bad."
"Forgiven, forgotten. I'm used to yer idiocy by now after all.", Breena nudged her shoulder to his laughing.
"Ey!"
"Yer words, not mine!"
They laughed together. She smiled at him, embracing everything they just talked about. Her smile fell a little as she started comparing the life Neil was living with her own. She hated herself for doing so, she shouldn't compare their lives or the way their families worked. The fact that Neil could say he does have a father every child could only dream of after all, the fact his mother always loved him, the fact he actually was wanted by both... she was happy for him but at the same time she wondered what she did to not get what he had. What anyone around her always had. The sun before them suddenly seemed to set faster than before. The last rays would yield to the warm summer night, its stars and moon, in a few minutes. The orange sky would turn a soft purple, the life of day retiring until the sun would take the lead again in this eternal dance it shared with the moon.
"Ye're very lucky, Neil, do ye ken that?"
"Aye, I ken I'm lucky to have a loving and intact family. Aside from the occasional problems that occur in every family that is. I ken that some weren't so lucky.", he turned to her. Mirroring her, there was a fall from ajoyful smile to one of pity.
He knew her home life had not been easy. He knew no details but he figured enough things happened.
"I won't ask, dinna worry.", he added. He had asked before, curiosity leading him like it did Breena before, but she never answered. It was unsatisfying to be left alone with theories of what might have been her home life before. He wanted to help her, be a friend to her but if he didn't know what she lived through, he was without means to be of help. On the other hand, he couldn't blame her for not telling him. He was a stranger to her. At least he had to remind himself again and again that he was. Maybe by now they were on territory of friendship but that still didn't mean he had any right to know of what Breena went through. Maybe she didn't want his help.
Feeling that his eyes were glued to her, she brushed a strand of hair aside with a sigh.
"I'm not ready to talk about it yet-"
"Breena, you-"
"Let me finish. I ken I don't have to tell ye anything and I ken that ye'd never push me to do so. And I wouldn't. I never talked about my issues, about my life and what I dealt with. I dinna own that to anyone. But...", she smiled sheepishly, "... I met someone."
For a second his heart sank to his stomach. Someone? Oh and she smiled... and that soft glance in her eyes... she was curling her hair around her finger... almost like...Was she in love with them? Was this were he had to accept Breena didn't see him the way he saw her? That she never saw more but a friend? Did she even see him as that? Would he have to actually, truly let her go?
"Oh... Who?"
"A kindhearted lad. Always smiling, always caring. I've known him for some time now, not a day goes by I'm not wi' him. I was really rude to him at first and I most regret it. I did him wrong. Very wrong. Turns out he's actually incredibly kind and generous and fun and affectionate and attentive and just overall a wonderful person."
She was talking about him. She couldn't have made it more obvious. Neil was that 'someone'. Flattered by her words he picked up his smile again.
"Aye? Is he handsome?", he smirked clearly just jesting.
She rolled her eyes again amused.
"If being handsome was a crime, he'd be the Boiling Isles' number one criminal."
"Oh wow", Neil chuckled. His cheeks had gained color to them by now and Breena noticed. Her own face tinting rose as well. Something about him made her nervous. Nervous in the manner of she played with her hair or fiddled with her hands, avoided eye contact and was robbed of her confidence. She looked aside.
Their hands were close. Resting next to each other on the grass in the small gap between them, solely the fingertips of their pinkies touching. Slowly, she inched her hand closer and tried to dig it underneath his. She was shaking, afraid she possibly misread him. She never before doubted her ability to read signs people gave. Whenever she was with Neil though, especially right now where he was so close, where he was looking at her with such fondness, she didn't know she was right anymore but she desperately hoped to be.
"I dinna ken how he managed that in this rather short time I've known him but I feel safe around him. I feel heard and understood. I ken that I can let myself fall wi'out a second thought and he will catch me. I finally found someone I can actually trust. Someone I can be vulnerable wi'. Someone I can show my worst and ken that he willna judge me. I feel like he'd accept me."
"I'm sure he does."
He lightly squeezed her hand underneath his. They softly smiled at each other, holding the eye contact intensely. Something inside him pulled him to her. He's thought about this sort of moment with her. Breena had caught his attention from the first second he spotted her red curls in his aunt's tavern. She had been an interest of his that he cared and ran after most but simultaneously she was an interest with the highest risk to just slip out of his life again. Neil would've let her go if she had decided to continue traveling after the one night she had found shelter in his family's farm house - that was their original agreement anyways. He couldn't have kept her here. They weren't a couple. She wasn't his. And she still wasn't. But he wanted her to be. She consumed his thoughts day and night, he couldn't concentrate sometimes, not on anything else but Breena.
Breena and her lovely round face, her shimmering green eyes underneath red-brown lashes, her rose lips, the dusted freckles on her cheeks and nose spreading to her temples, to her ears, her neck, her arms and hands, the way her long red curls framed her face and fell to her back.
He felt his heart pick up pace the longer they looked each other. Breena shortly lowered her gaze to his lips and then met Neil's eyes again. They exchanged no words, only looks and yet they understood each other perfectly.
He leaned in closer, brought his hand up to her face and cupped it in his palm. She followed him... leaned further in, tilted her head and slowly closed her eyes until she felt his lips touch hers.
/////////////////////////////////
*Neil's older brother and sister
37 notes · View notes
vashtijoy · 1 year
Note
I am so sorry if I missed it somewhere but is it confirmed that Akechi killed Wakaba? It is heavily implied but I am curious if you translated the moment when Akechi and Shido mention Wakaba?
And the second question: Is there something interesting in Feather Seeker?
Thank you in advance!!
Hi, anon, I'm so glad you asked as this one has been on my mind a lot lately. I think this is long enough without me getting into Featherman Seeker, lmao, but if you want to drop me another ask about it, I'll hopefully get to it soon.
To answer your question up front: yes, it is pretty much confirmed that Akechi kills Wakaba. Here's Sae, interrogating Joker about Kaneshiro:
Sae 若葉の死は2年前⋯『あれ』が起き始めた時期とも一致する⋯ wakaba no shi wa ninenmae... "are" ga okihajimeta jiki to mo icchi suru... Wakaba's death was two years ago... That also coincides with when the incidents started occurring...
IIRC this is the line that the idea that Wakaba was the first person Akechi murdered comes from. It's not explicit that she was the first victim—in this line, Sae has only just realised Wakaba didn't kill herself—but if she wasn't, she may very well have been the first to immediately die.
What gives far more credit to the idea that a. Wakaba was the first person Akechi killed, and b. that he feels bad about it to this day, are the various mentions of her that he sprinkles through his dialogue. And that's what the rest of this post will largely be about—though page down to see more about the Shido scene you asked about.
akechi and wakaba
Akechi mentions Wakaba by name several times. I talked recently about how Akechi's use of ellipsis can be important, how it sometimes indicates something deeper going on—surprise, or shock, or a hidden emotion. Or that he's just taking his time—sometimes an ellipsis is just a pause for effect, and Akechi does use them a lot.
But ALL FIVE of Akechi's mentions of Wakaba by name—two in the first year, and three in the third semester—have an ellipsis. They have that pause that indicates he's for some reason thinking more about what he's saying.
Let's take them one by one.
8/28 in leblanc
NB (2023/05/21): putting a quick note here to say that I'm pretty sure now that the mention of Wakaba on 8/28 is not out of surprise, he's prepared for it and intending to mention her all along. So he doesn't open up until Joker and Futaba ask him (without words) what's wrong. At some point I'll rewrite this whole section (hopefully), but for now see below! for the continued WAKABA ANGST.
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This one is pretty easy to cover: Sojiro cuts him off as soon as he mentions Wakaba. I don't know about this scene. I never know how much he's genuinely surprised, how much he doesn't expect to see Futaba out of the house, how much he's just being a bitch, prodding and poking because he can, to get a response, like he does.
The interesting thing is that, of course, seeing Futaba segues into his notorious "trauma dump"—he ends up telling Joker and Futaba about his childhood, about how he was an orphan passed from place to place. Did he walk in intending to do that? I very much doubt it. And one more thing before we move on:
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... they ask him what's bothering him. They look at him like "? dude sup". The trauma dump is not as unprovoked as it seems.
And there's no sign that he connects with Joker over it—of course—but you know who he does connect with?
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Yep. Futaba sees the similarity between his story and her own. And it looks like Akechi sees the similarities too. That suggests IMO that his background is not dissimilar to hers—that, as the anime suggests, he was fostered by a succession of family members who neglected and probably abused him, as Futaba's story describes.
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... and we get another ellipsis. Just a pause as he reaches for her name, perfectly innocuous. Except he knows her name; he's been talking to Sae about her.
I don't know. This is an incredibly hard scene to read. He has that performatively-sad cut-in that I don't trust at all, for a start; he could be being purely malicious, or sharing more than he intends; he could be genuinely shocked to see Futaba, or fascinated to see one of his living victims face-to-face. Or the whole thing could be a performance for Joker's benefit. It's an interesting scene, that's for sure.
shido and akechi
This is the scene you asked about, of course. Strap in. Shido talks about pulling the plug on cognitive psience, Akechi touches his chin and leans back, and he says this:
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Akechi 一色若葉⋯でしたっけ? あの研究者。素直に従えば、死ぬことはなかったのに。 isshiki wakaba... deshita kke? ano kenkyuusha. sunao ni shitagaeba, shinu koto wa nakatta no ni.  ...Wakaba Isshiki, was it? That researcher. She wouldn't have had to die if she just complied. It was ... Wakaba Isshiki, yes? That researcher? If only she'd been more amenable, she might have lived.
This is pretty well translated in the localisation. Some notes:
We have that kke—Akechi is not saying "do you mean Wakaba Isshiki, Shido-san", in case you were wondering, he's saying "am I remembering right that her name was Wakaba Isshiki".
sunao ni shitagaeba—literally, "if she could have meekly obeyed", but in English, unless we want to sound like murderous psychopaths (cough), we say "if she could have complied; if she could have been amenable".
Lastly, we have that no ni, at the end, which gives the statement a sense of regret, which turns that "if she could have complied" into "if only she could have complied". "She might not have died; what a shame". In the Japanese audio (and for all I know btw, this happens in the English audio too), Akechi's tone and manner change on this line, from sinister and self-satisfied to something slower and more preoccupied. On his next couple of lines, his speed and smuggery progressively pick back up.
Here's the scene—it's fascinating to listen to his voice shift, especially to how dark it gets when he tells Shido how he agrees with his ideology and supports him politically. (lol) Plus, watch out for the evil wink, as he mocks his public image.
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This should be "celebrity ace detective", by the way—while karisuma does mean "charisma", a karisuma is a person, a celebrity. It's often translated correctly in P5, just not here.
ok but back to wakaba
So what's going on here as regards Wakaba? First of all, Akechi does remember her—he's been talking about her with Sae since at least July. Shido knows Akechi murdered Wakaba—that's not the point. Shido knows Akechi is pretending to investigate the shutdowns and breakdowns—so the mere fact that Akechi knows her name is not the point either.
No, what's going on here is that Akechi doesn't want Shido to know he thinks about Wakaba. That, after two years, he still has her name at his fingertips. And so we get exactly the same style of pause as in the Leblanc scene with Futaba, when he pauses for just a moment to act like he doesn't properly know her name. We get that moment when his voice shows that he's feeling something and concealing it beneath his mask.
That's a pause that implies remorse or guilt, IMO. The mask he shows Shido is essentially Cognitive Akechi—gleeful, remorseless, sadistic, relentless. Make no mistake, there's a lot of Akechi in it, like there's a lot of him, despite what he'd like to think, in the detective prince. There's a lot of how Akechi aspires to be in his mask for Shido, and a lot of what he truly values about himself. But it is still a mask. And one of the things it's hiding is that Akechi still thinks more about Wakaba than he wants Shido to know.
This, IMO, is what implies that Wakaba was his first murder—this odd little moment where he has to pretend he doesn't properly remember her.
the third semester
The third semester is where it all gets a little more complicated. Akechi mentions Wakaba three times here; the most emotion he shows is when he first sees her. And the likelihood is strong that anything he feels about her is overshadowed by his own predicament—namely, being dead.
First of all, here's that moment when he first sees her. And you can see him understand: he looks at her for a long moment, then he touches his chin and has one of his "...... putting-it-all-together" thinky moments:
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... and then he puts on his bright smile and the detective prince voice to get Joker outside. That's to say: he comes in without his customary pleasant-boy mask, sees Wakaba, and then drops straight back behind it—when he must have known there were others present on the way in. Like he needs a heavier mask to make sure he doesn't fuck up. Or to hide something.
Let's look at those three times Akechi mentions Wakaba, one by one:
1/2 in the launderette
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The only thing I'd pick at in the localisation of this little exchange is the missing ellipsis on the last line, so let's take the rest of it straight:
Akechi: But, what's even more unbelievable to me is... Joker: Wakaba. Akechi: That's right.
Akechi ⋯一色若葉。 ... isshiki wakaba Wakaba Isshiki. ... Wakaba Isshiki.
Here's the scene. All we really have for his Wakaba textbox is the ellipsis, but listen to the first one—"what's even more unbelievable to me is...", and compare his tone to the preceding lines where he's been all business and matter-of-fact. Do you hear his voice thinning? It's by far the most unsettled he sounds all scene; Wakaba's presence is difficult for him.
And it's not his own death that's in question. If you ask him "how are you alive", he'll deal with it then—he looks away with the sad sprite, but then picks himself up fast. Even his model looks away, which is a bit of a tell—but as for traces in his voice of what's really happening, no, there are none.
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1/8 at leblanc
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There are no interesting vocal tricks here—a week later, Akechi is well on top of the reality around him and his own situation. And he doesn't like it—this is the "it makes me want to puke / I'll be the one to choose my path" phone call. It's only at the end of the call that some emotion creeps in, as he asks what's happening with the other Phantom Thieves, and if Joker is still on course.
Let's take a look at the original first line:
Akechi 死んだはずの若葉や奥村⋯彼女らは本当に『生きている』ことになってる。 shinda hazu no wakaba ya okumura... kanojora wa hontou ni "ikiteiru" koto ni natteru It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts.
I'm not sure what's going on with the noun order here, on wakaba ya okumura—it's been rendered "Okumura and Wakaba". I can't track down a reason this would be grammatically necessary (anyone know?); more than that, Akechi clearly considers Wakaba the more important of the two—he goes on to group them with kanojora, "her and her group".
There's possibly a bit of foreshadowing here, too—lists with ya tend to be incomplete lists; they have a sense of "et cetera". So wakaba ya okumura is "Wakaba, Okumura and so on". Who's Akechi's unnamed "and so on"? Yeah. But see below on 2/2—he may well just mean "no doubt there are lots of other cases like this".
So that's probably the real reason he trails off here—it's not about Wakaba, it's about him. Likewise, when that bit of feeling creeps into his voice at the end of the call, that's still about him, and whether Joker is going to follow through. But Akechi is still thinking primarily about Wakaba, rather than Okumura, who was, by all accounts, an asshole almost as bad as Shido.
2/2 at leblanc
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Akechi 一色若葉や奥村のこともある⋯そこに違和感を覚えないほど、僕は馬鹿じゃないさ。 isshiki wakaba ya okumura no koto mo aru... soko ni iwakan o mienai hodo, boku wa baka ja nai sa There were also the cases of Wakaba Isshiki and President Okumura... Of course I'd find all of that suspicious. And then there was Wakaba Isshiki, and Okumura... I'm not so stupid as to not find their presence unsettling.
Man, once again Okumura has been promoted by the localisation. Someone really likes this guy. Akechi says isshiki wakaba ya okumura—the same usage as before, despite that he's been outed as dead—"Wakaba Isshiki and Okumura". But in English, Okumura is suddenly President Okumura, presumably so we don't mix him up with Haru. Make no mistake, though, Akechi is not giving Okumura the benefit of his title.
Wakaba is up front again, of course, coming to Akechi's mind first. Maybe because if he just said "Isshiki and Okumura", we wouldn't know who he was talking about?—even in Japanese, Wakaba always gets her full or given name. Maybe so. Or maybe not.
Also note the very Akechi usage boku wa baka ja nai sa—"I'm not that much of an idiot, you know." This is rolled into the rather more bland "Of course I'd find that suspicious", probably to fit it into the textbox.
And yeah, the ellipsis. That pause, and the word Akechi uses that's rendered as "suspicious"—iwakan. Not a detective's suspicion, but unease; a sense of incongruity, of wrongness, almost uncanny valley. It's the unsettling feeling that something is out-of-place. The sentiment "I killed them, and yet there they are, walking about" is very iwakan.
conclusions??
yes, Akechi certainly kills Wakaba.
yes, the exposition sequence with Akechi and Shido supports this.
... yeah, it really seems like he feels bad about it. Not bad enough to overshadow his concern for himself, perhaps, and never badly enough to get in the way of his current obsession, of course. But he's not wholly without conscience. He still thinks about her, and there are slight suggestions he might even think about what he does to Futaba—like when he sees her, and thinks of Wakaba, and promptly trauma dumps all over the Leblanc counter. Like when his voice gets a bit softer when she comes up.
also the localisation loves Okumura way too much
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